


Sketching (you) in

by luminous_nyght



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik/Liam Payne - Fandom, ziam - Fandom
Genre: I think that sums up everything, M/M, Nothing is explicit, alternative universe, but only allusions to them, it's a kidfic!, oh oh practising muslim Z btw, oh there is a major female character but she's okay and you'll love her too i promise, there is mention of things, ummm Z has no fam in this so please be aware of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminous_nyght/pseuds/luminous_nyght
Summary: “Here is to us.” Liam’s smiling as Kadir is handing both of them champagne, smiling his head off.“Here’s to us Mr Malik Payne.” Rolling off his tongue like it’s always belonged there. Grabbing Liam’s hand to make sure that yes indeed there is a ring on Liam’s finger to signifies he belongs to him.Yes indeed. In the same space, in the same room he met Liam all those months ago.And so it goes.The first day of the rest of his life.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Sketching (you) in

**Author's Note:**

> You guys!  
> I cannot believe that I've just gone and written a full blown Ziam fic in 2020.
> 
> These last few weeks have been a rollercoaster but I'm so so proud to be able to bring you a little piece of where my heart is with all this drama/bearding/baby daddy stuff happening.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as i've enjoyed writing it!  
> You can find me at @lepetitzrince on tumblr!, please come tell me your thoughts !!!  
> Any mistakes are mine, it's 52k and i didn't have a beta!! i'm still tinkering with it too!
> 
> Thank you for stopping by xxxx

Zayn’s nervous. He’s sat crossed legged on the floor of his studio trying to shade his fear out of his bones. The light is hitting his canvas exactly right, while soft streaks of pale yellow hit his face.

It’s just gone three in the afternoon and he’s waiting on his class to turn up for their sketching class in half an hour. It’s a start of a new season, his seventh, but every year it feels like it’s his first ever class again.

He lets go of his charcoal, blackened fingers coming up to comb his hair out of his face. Gently he lifts himself off the floor to freshen up. He’s spent most of the day kneeling down to try to work on his latest commission.

Zayn’s not what you’d call – typical.

There are no standing ease posed up like models around the room. He likes to charcoal with canvas directly on the floor, where he can move around each corner as it pleases him, working in whichever way he wanted. He found it helps with his thought processes. It’s how he teaches his classes too, like a fluid dance between the real and the extraordinary. He preaches and believes that nothing should ever come between you and your potential.

And sitting crouched up on stools hiding behind walls of canvas has never been the space he needed when he created his favourite drawings.

Zayn looks around, checking that everything is where he needs them to be, mentally he makes a note to move the pencils and charcoals to a more accessible surface and lets himself to move slowly to the small bathroom. He just has enough time to pray and collect himself before people start turning up for his fully booked class.

*

Later, when he’s packing up his prayer mat to lay it by the door, there is a small knock, ten minutes before he’s expecting anyone.

Before he can get up from the floor, the door swings open and a man is stood there, holding a set of papers in his hands.

He stumbles slightly at the sight of Zayn still kneeling beside his shoes and stops himself from entering the room before permission is granted.

“Um, hi.” He says, “I didn’t wanna intrude but I wasn’t too sure where to go and I didn’t wanna get lost.”

Zayn shakes his head and stands. “Don’t worry, it’s easy to get lost up here without the big halls to guide you.” He smiles. “I was just finished, usually people turn up right on time or a little late, Sunday you know.”

They both smile and Zayn moves forward to fully open the door now. “Come in, pick a spot, I’ll start explaining what we do here in a moment.”

“Liam.” The man says pointing at himself grinning shyly.

“Zayn.” He says as he puts a hand over his chest as he nods his head, “but I think you already know that.”

They both laugh as the walk right into the middle of his small space the gallery provides for the class.

“It’s such a lovely space with the glass.” Liam speaks looking up through to the glass ceiling.

“Hmm, I have a hidden set of stairs that lets you go up onto it you know, you can see Trafalgar really nicely at night.”

“God!” Liam exclaims, “I’d never leave.”

Zayn chuckles, “Who says I do though.”

Before Liam has time to reply, there is another knock on the now open door. This time there is a line trailing behind the woman and it signals that it’s now time to get his shit together.

“Alright everyone, come in find a spot, grab a little easel if you wish, I’ll explain what we’ll be doing a minute but in the meantime grab one of those stickers and write down your names, it’s gonna take me a few weeks to remember all of you.”

He watches for a moment as everyone does as instructed. Some people walk up to the easels, some don’t, some go directly to a spot to claim. The group is mixed and varied, and the gallery likes to cater to diversity groups which means that Zayn’s a bit in love with the policy because not many get a chance to take particular skill classes like his without the exorbitant cost.

When everyone is settled next too one of the massive canvases on the floor, he lets himself look again at Liam. Who is now sitting on the canvas closest to Zayn. He bites his bottom lip before he lets himself smile about the prospect of having this beautiful man so close to him for the next three hours. He takes a moment to look at him, chestnut brown hair, dark honey coloured irises and a chiselled jaw littered with freckles, he would be a beautiful masterpiece if Zayn would ever work up the courage to ask him to sit for a sketch.

He makes himself tear away from Liam and walks into the middle of the room.

“Okay, so for many of you, this is your first ever specialised charcoal class, am I right?” There is a nod of heads or hums of voices in return. “I’m gonna read out your names on my register here for gallery purposes, but if you’re here, it’s usually a safe bet that the curators haven’t found issues with the application.”

“Once I call your name, please pick up the charcoals and sharpening tools you’re using today right on the desk there. Everything needed for this class is provided for, and if you wish to take any set home you’re welcome too. I prefer to work the canvas on the floor, as we are doing today, however if you’re used to working on a bit of a stand, don’t hesitate to use them. I won’t apologise for the lack of stools though; you can stock up on the pillows.” He says pointing towards the pile at the side.

There is a laugh across the room and the ice has been broken. Zayn can breathe a little easier now.

As he speaks and around the ten people sitting around him, he smiles as everyone takes their place around him forming a big circle, Zayn’s in his element now.

Where he’s most happy.

“Also some food for thought whilst we get through this, please sit, and think for a moment what you know about the light and dark theory, okay?

“Are we talking _chiaroscuro_?” A girl is looking across his face, _Amelie_ strapped to her jacket in neat, slated handwriting, he watches in the process as her eyes light up.

“Yes,” He replies smiling, “we’ll be looking at two paintings by Da Vinci and Caravaggio in a minute, but for right now, just try and figure out what we all collectively know about it. Is that clear everyone?”

There is a short hum of agreement again and Zayn now is able to get on with the rest of his class.

*

Later when everyone is working on their own sketches, Zayn decides to saunter about to see what everyone is up too.

He beelines his way to squat next to Liam first, because honestly, why the heck not.

“How did you make it look so easy?”

“What?” he chuckles, “The hands,” Liam says, “How did you draw those hands so easily.” Pointing over to Zayn’s own sketch propped up beside them.

Zayn can feel his ears turning pink and his fact heating up, “Well practice I guess.” He says to cover himself.

Liam smiles at him, and Zayn thinks that maybe, he’s not gotta regret signing over for another year with the gallery.

“Try slide your palm a little faster across the canvas, remember the sketching is the skeleton to a painting if it’s messed up, everything will too,” Zayn says as he takes Liam’s hand to arrange the circular charcoal between his fingers correctly. “If you hold your palm open, it will help too, I promise.” He smirks at him and stands to go to check on the others. He can’t be seen showing favouritism this early on.

*

When the class comes to an end, Zayn takes a moment to lean onto the desk as he watches the class slowly getting up to start leaving. He reminds them softly to move their project canvas, sticky name labels attached to the back, to the storeroom before they go and lets them get on with it.

Moving towards his laptop to make a start on his notes for a few moments, he hears a throat clear. It makes Zayn look up a bit startled at the unexpected chat. With a smile he realises it’s Liam and takes the time to slide his glasses up his nose before replying.

“You okay?” he asks, straightening up. “Was hoping you do extra classes that aren’t Sunday.” Liam says timidly.

“What’s wrong with Sunday?” Zayn asks politely genuinely intrigued now, because this is the only day of the week the gallery would accommodate, and it was stated in their confirmation email Zayn has sent the week previous.

“I’m a surgeon,” Liam explains, his face dropping down to look at his shoes, hands twisting around each other nervously. “I have to work the midnight shift tonight in ER and usually like to spend the afternoon with my daughter and rest before I have to go in. I wanted to come to day to see if I liked the class first before dropping it.”

Zayn’s tummy does several flips in the few seconds it took for Liam to get all that out. There was too much information to process all at once there. He reminds himself, that he’s only met this man, three hours ago.

“And do _you_? Like the class I mean?” His mouth speaks for him.

“Um, it’s honestly the best thing I’ve put myself on the waiting list for, been waiting a couple of seasons but it wasn’t on Sunday the last time I had checked.”

Zayn shakes his head and smiles, “No, they used to be Wednesday and Friday, but this year they’re doing oil and renaissance on those days so they moved us Sunday as they see this more of a specialist skill, but you can always come on a day that is a little better for you and I can clear out a few hours.”

“Would you mind?”

“I mean, when I’m not doing this, I do commission work and I write, but since I’ve started working here, work hasn’t really dried up, so that’s been super nice to be able to live off it.”

Liam smiles at him, almost relief, but there is something else Zayn can’t quite read behind his eyes quite yet. “I’d need to bring Luna, but I have standard Friday’s off.” He stops for a minute before, “If that’s okay with you?”

If Zayn’s honest he likes to waste away his most Friday’s because the only thing tasked to him is taking Laila up to Milton Keynes after her dance class, which he’ll have to switch but it isn’t a bad idea.

“I’d love to meet her and let Laila show her a few tricks.” He tries. “But I’ll warn you now, she can be a bit of a menace.”

“You have a daughter too?” Zayn nods then smiles. “She’s just turned six in March.”

“Luna’s just turned six in January.” Liam blurts out, obviously excited about the prospect of switching his days. “Is there anything I need to pay now?”

Zayn shakes his head, “No, why would you think that?”

“Cause it’s technically not _Gallery_ time?” Liam asks a little perplexed.

“I’m here full time, if I’m not working on commission pieces, I help with cleaning and restoration, if I’m not doing that, you’ll finding me sketching between the tourists and the troublemakers.”

They both smile and Zayn’s a little happy that he’ll be seeing Liam one of one, even if it’s a foursome date.

“So Friday, whenever you wanna pop in?” Zayn asks making sure to make a mental note of the time. “She finishes school at four, and by the time we get here it’s maybe half past. Is that okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Zayn smiles, “I’ll meet you outside by the fountains around half four then.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Zayn nods and points to the door, “but I think now, someone needs their daddy home.”

Liam laughs and turns to leave.

Zayn is left there not half knowing what to do with himself.

*

On the tube home, he decides to take a look at Liam’s profile, provided to him by the gallery. He’s just taken the time to inform the management team of a change in circumstance, which takes him out of restoration on Friday afternoons, but he doesn’t mind. Liam seems worth it enough.

Zayn doesn’t usually take the time to read the portfolio’s, preferring immensely to organically get to know people as time plays on, but Liam’s intrigued him.

He’s different from the usual types that walk through his door. He’s used to the fine art graduates or English majors looking for something else to do but reading. He’s used to the misfits that find commonality in art. From the dark academia aesthetic nerds to the Rembrandt obsessed Bengali girl that he’d fallen in love when he was still an apprentice, his doors tend to open ideas and opportunities for the _invisible_ in the world we live in.

He finds the saved file on his tablet and learns that Liam’s in fact a heart surgeon with a penchant for drawing the human anatomy. Zayn scrolls down to see the portfolio attached beneath and immediately recognises the talent set before him. He can see the delicate way Liam’s got about his sketches. The way the shading of the pencil complement the lighting, and how he tends to emphasise the parts that are the most important to each organ.

It now definitely makes more sense how a wayward surgeon ended up in sitting in on his class drawing in the charcoaled shading for a pair of Da Vinci inspired pair of hands.

When he looks up from the drawings, Zayn realises he’s a stop away from where he gets off to collect Laila. He shoves his tablet in his bag to get up and make his way to the doors.

The watches himself in the window as the train zooms its way to Kings Cross. The contours of his body, the indentation of his collarbone against his inked skin under his denim jacket, how his bag slings across his chest. The gap of his thighs. He shudders himself out of his gazing because he’s never particularly liked the way his body leaned.

He checks his watch, it reads half six, he smiles to himself because he definitely cannot be told off for being late this week.

A putrid smell hits him the moment the nostrils the moment the doors open, making him rush to get to the escalators. This is peak rush hour and he always has hated traversing across the city during the window of time the tube is packed full of people like sardines trying to fit into the carriages.

Once he makes it both escalators and through the gate, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Ahan is probably just about arriving from the station upstairs.

At the top of his last set of stairs, he turns left to enter the heart of the chaos. The boards on the ceiling are indicating that the train will arriving in about ten minutes, enough time to find the loo.

He makes his way quickly past the Harry Potter store and into the queue for the turnstiles. Zayn wouldn’t usually have paid the 30p because he’s tells himself he’s skint like that but his hair needs sorting out and he convinces himself it’s reason enough.

Zayn takes the time to undo his braid before shaking out his hair once he gets to a free mirror. Pulling it into a soft bun on top of his head. His fingers are still a pale grey from the charcoal, but he doesn’t mind, Laila is used to him looking like a mess, but he does try sometimes to look presentable.

His phone buzzes, Anan must have arrived with Laila in tow.

When he checks, he’s surprised to find two text messages, one from Anan as expected, telling him they’re about to get off the train but the second, one he wasn’t expecting, from _Liam._

The last time he engaged with someone from his class, they produced Laila, so Zayn’s learnt his lesson thoroughly from the experience, but he still can’t help himself, because Liam’s asking him out to dinner to compensate for the extra hours.

He agrees quickly to Nando’s nothing more, the shoves his phone back in his pocket.

Incoming on platform 5, Zayn catches a glimpse of what he think is Laila.

They usually wait for him next to the Lola’s cupcakes stand in the underground, seeing he’s mostly almost late, but Ahan has no idea that he’s managed to arrive not just on time, but also, early.

He looks over again to make sure that it is in fact Laila skipping her way down the platform. Through the rush of people trying to leave London at the moment, the incoming traffic is fairly easy to see.

She spots him and jumps up waving. Then turns to Ahan to urge her to walk faster.

In front of him, through the open barriers, stands the _woman he would have married_ if he were enough for her parents that is.

Her hijab is falling half off her shoulders, her moon like face, like the fire-gold glow of the setting sun burns itself into his brain for the millionth time. Her eyes, deep set, and a soft hazel gaze up at him, surprised to see him so far away from their usual spot. In her hands, Ahan is carrying Laila’s usual Spiderman luggage she insisted on three years ago and will not go anywhere without out.

“Baba!” Comes a scream when they get closer to him. Laila runs up to him through the barriers and straight into his arms.

He lifts her up and immediately her hand goes in search of his silver necklace inscribed with her name, tucked deep on the inside of his sweater.

“Hey,” He smiles, as Ahan joins them. Opening up his free arm so he can side hug her the best he can with Laila’s fidgeting continues.

She breathes out heavily as she lets herself enjoy the moment. A few years ago she told had told him that he’s the only person that will ever feel like home. Rendered unmarriageable by their _‘rash actions’_ Ahan spends her days in holed up in a science lab processing DNA whilst her parents remind her of her mistakes.

But Laila has never been a mistake to either of them, and that’s always rubbed her parents the wrong way.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Zayn speaks, breaking them apart to let Laila onto to floor.

“I fancy Nando’s!” She says excitedly as her feet hit the ground. “Leli baby, we don’t shout so loud.” Ahan says, crouching down to fix her puffer coat and hat, her long messy braids coming out of everywhere.

“Soorry Ammi.” Comes a drawl from Laila as she takes both their hands to walk out of the station. She knows how rare it is to have her parents both together without chaperones swirling around with them.

They’ve gotten used to this routine, on Friday he takes her up North and every Sunday evening, Ahan brings her back. It’s the only plan her parents ever agreed on, because even this much time on, they still haven’t accepted that his mother is white, and yet, Ahan still chose to give him primary custody of Laila, because it means Laila’s growing up in an environment that doesn’t hate here very existence.

And of course, they still don’t understand that neither.

“New class today wasn’t it?” She asks nervously, turning her head to look at him.

Every time they’re together there is this unmentionable sadness that runs between them, but today her face isn’t hiding it so well.

“Yeah,” And just like that they fall back into their little slice of heaven, for the two hours he gets her, he like to take full advantage of the moments they do get to share and will be able to share for the rest of their lives.

*

When he and Laila get home later that night, he tells her about the man she’ll meet on Friday and how she needs to play nice with his little girl.

Zayn’s sat on the sofa, light dimmed, music playing softly as he checks the homework she did during the weekend. Zayn homeschool’s her, because well, he _can_ and mostly he enjoys it too much to send her to school.

Up until this point Laila was sat crossed legged on the rug filling in a sheet of maths extra work, he likes to give her random tests one once a week. And after she gets back from Ahan’s she won’t go to bed until he thinks of something that tires her out, this usually does the trick.

The news makes Laila stops fussing with her sums her to look up at him with her big jade coloured eyes to ask if she should bring art supplies to the studio, watching her eyes light up with happiness when he says yes.

It’s the little moments really that makes his heart happy.

“Come here, meri – jaan,” He says reaching forward to tug at the sleeve of her sweater, to bring her closer. In turn, Laila drops her pencil to fold herself into him.

He misses her too much when she goes to visit her extended family.

“Can you plait my hair before I sleep?” She asks softly. “Daadi, puts curls in it and I hate it.” She complains every single _week_ but he’s not about to say anything about to Ahan, her family already have a lot of issues with him. This is one he can easily solve.

“Let’s get you in the bath first.” He smiles, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. “Violin exam tomorrow so we don’t have much time to mess about, but I will try my best, remember we have prayer too in a bit.”

Her eyes light up with happiness again, and nods, he’s been teaching her Salat, a little earlier but he’s copied him since she could stand, so it was an obvious choice to show her things.

“What’s her name? the little girl I mean.” She whispers, climbing properly into his lap now. Settling on his knees.

“Oh, Luna, she’s six too.”

“Like Harry Potter Luna?” She laughs, squirming in his grip, laughing softly as she grabs his neck to lean backwards still chuckling. He can’t help but kiss her neck silly bending his head forward, cause even more giggles.

“Think so.” He says, bopping her nose with his, before letting her drop a kiss onto his nose, “I didn’t have time to ask him.”

“If he’s anything like you, it’s a Harry Potter name.” Laila surmises loudly. “I already like her.”

“We’ll see, shall we? now come on Leli, I wanna finish checking your homework too before we go to bed.”

“You should stop being a teacher all the time Baba,” She says, like she repeats every week. “Not everything has to be on time and perfect.”

Zayn take a minute to smile and look down at her, still squirming in his grasp, because technically she’s right, but he can’t help it.

“I know meri – jaan,” Zayn speaks, lifting both of them up from the sofa, “but I’m your Baba and your teacher, and your best friend, I’m always going to want everything to be on time and perfect.” He speaks into her hair, letting a small kiss to gently land on her forehead.

She’s laughing her head off, he likes this, the semblance of routine, the little world that works especially for them.

In that moment, he thinks to himself, that the next Friday is probably gonna be the most interesting day in a while.

*

With persistence comes routine and routine means he makes his days vanish in front of him. Zayn looks at the time on his phone, it reads 4.25pm. He’s watching Laila dance around the fountains while he takes pictures.

It’s the first day this spring that isn’t bitterly cold.

It’s also the first time he’s out of his crummy black jeans he uses for work. Looking down at a fresh pair of jeans makes him feel a bit better about himself.

When he looks at the camera screen, he realises that as usual Laila’s looking a bit of a hot mess, and that’s something Zayn doesn’t like.

Fondly, he asks her to come to him. “Hey jaan, come here a minute.”

“It’s weird not going to Miss. Avery today.” And Zayn 

Laila says the moment she bumbles her way over to him. Zayn quickly fixes her dress and coat, as well as hurriedly running his fingers through her dark brown hair to tie a new ponytail. Telling her to pull her tights up a bit so that her everything looks a little better.

Zayn sighs, because oh he knows. She has classes every day and any change to her routine gets her all angsty. He’s raising a kid that’s just like him he thinks smiling.

“I know. “He tells her, “but you’re going to go on Tuesday instead, it’s still Miss. Avery and she’s put you in the Junior class too, not the baby one, I told you that already.”

“I know, but I’m gonna miss Aazam so much.”

“You’ll be alright jaan, and I can always call her mum to find a day to see her.”

“Would you Baba?”

“Leli, anything for you.” Zayn says smiling.

“Hey, listen, we’re going to Ammi’s a little later today okay? Ammi is going to be waiting as usual, but I need to give this lesson first, so best behaviour please. If you get bored, please put some Netflix on but no shouting okay?”

“Trust me, Baba, we’ll be okay.”

“I do Leli, I’m just making sure.” Kissing her forward when she leans into him on the bench.

In the distance, whilst scanning the crowds, he spots Liam crossing the square, a little auburn coloured curly haired girl trailing behind him clutching his hand, a mauve boater sitting around her shoulders as Liam holds her school bag.

It doesn’t fail to make him smile because that’s so ridiculously cute and unexpected.

“There they are.” He says to Laila, standing them both up to walk over to him.

His tummy flips again, but he pushes the feeling down to half wave at Liam, who in turn spots him and smiles.

The crowd of tourists means it take Liam a few minutes to arrive next to where he’s standing.

“Hey, thank you for meeting me today.”

“No worries, this is Laila.” He says as she sticks out her hand to wave up at him shyly.

“This is Luna.” The little girl does the same and they both look at each other and smile.

“Come on then, let’s get going.”

They walk together across the square, rounding the corner into the National Portrait Gallery.

Zayn waves at the security, who lets them in through a side door, a small shortcut up to the studio.

In the lift, he catches sight of Liam looking at him, but he forces himself to gaze away from the mirror.

“It’s cool isn’t it?” He hears Laila softly asking Luna, “My Baba never makes us walk the long way round.”

“What’s the long way round?” Luna replies.

“The part where we have to walk through a lot of paintings to get to Baba’s room.”

“What’s a _Baba_?”

Zayn chuckles softly at the conversation, but without missing a beat, or looking up, Laila says, “It just means my daddy, it’s Urdu, me and my Baba go to classes every week to learn more.”

Zayn’s stomach flips again, but for a completely different reason this time. In the four years she’s been talking, he’s never heard Laila say the word daddy _once_.

It’s so foreign to him if he’s totally honest.

Once the lift rings them out, they walk down the short wide the corridor to find his door. Only two are on this floor and Zayn’s always loved that little fact.

Zayn swipes his key card across the locked door to open it.

“Leli, I don’t need to remind you about Netflix, do I?”

“No, Baba.” She drawls out smiling, “Can I take out the clay though?”

“Only if you’re careful.” Laila’s eyes light up with happiness because he’s never willing to let her get messy. “Can you please change into your overalls though? And find a pair for Luna please.”

“Yep.” She answers smiling, then goes to grab at Luna’s hand to run off into the room he set up for Laila right by the storeroom. Watching as the light turns on and the door shutting behind the two girls.

“I hope you don’t mind.” He turns, speaking to Liam for the first time, “plus, I think you’d appreciate the quiet.”

“I do, Laila’s gorgeous by the way.”

Zayn’s mouth wraps it around a smile, before biting onto his bottom lip. “I can say the same thing about Luna.”

Liam wrings out his hands not really knowing what to say to that. Zayn in turn takes the time to notice that he’s not got a wedding band on something that didn’t come to mind to check the last time he saw him.

“Come on then.” Zayn says sitting himself down on the fresh paper he likes to cover the floor in he’d laid out before. It forces him away from his ramblings and it’s what Zayn needs to focus on right now. he grabs a rough piece of paper from the floor and a pencil from his desk and quickly sketches out the shape of an old cottage, surrounded by wildlife and forest.

When he’s just about finished, he hears, “How? Do you do that.” Says Liam, “It’s legit been two seconds.” Zayn chuckles and sits himself crossed legged on the floor next to him.

“I told you Monday,” Zayn shrugs, “practice.” Zayn smiles shyly.

“Right, here’s your first challenge, you look like a tea kind of guy, so while I go check that the girls are set up okay, I want you to copy that, in the five minutes I’m gone?”. Zayn points, “as best as you know, I know that’s a little bit out your comfort zone, your portfolio tells me so, but I wanna see what you can do anyway.”

Zayn witnesses Liam’s ears turning pink, “I didn’t realise you actually saw that.”

“They send them all to me before each new season, but I must confess, I’ve only really taken the time to read yours.”

Now Liam’s cheeks warm his pale face, “Really now.” It’s part smirk, part embarrassment.

“Yes really,” Zayn confirms laughing to break the ice a little more, then stands, “Now tell me, how many sugars in your tea?”

“Two please.” Liam speaks, his head down, already lost in trying to recreate their opening activity. He can see Liam smiling to himself as he walks away.

“Oh, he says as an afterthought before disappearing. “Heat will kick on in a minute, we should be okay to take our coats off soon.”

Liam doesn’t reply, but he does grunt happily in acknowledgment.

This is gonna be fun. Zayn thinks to himself as he opens the door to check on the girls, but _really_ , to check that Luna has got her fancy private school uniform all covered in liquid.

*

“So, when are you gonna let me take you for that Nando’s?” Liam asks as he’s washing his hands from their blackened tips. Looking down at Zayn still on his tummy around the canvas picking at the used charcoal to put them back in their box.

They have had a good session, Zayn intended on only two hours, but it’s just gone three and he’s only now pulled away from lying about on the floor working with charcoal.

It’s always nice to just be able to have the time to sit with someone and show them basic skills and tricks and not feel bad for procrastinating for it.

“I have to take her to Milton Keynes now, but it means I get each weekend to do whatever till the class on Sunday if you’re down.”

“You take her up every week?”

Zayn nods and sits up, hands going up to his hair to sort out his now messy bun. “I drive up, so it isn’t so bad, her mum, she used to live here when she was still in uni, but now, well, let’s just say she has strict parents.”

“Well.” Liam starts, looks down at his hands and breaths out. “Luna’s mum passed when she was three, car accident. Sometimes it’s one of those moments in life you know, I was in the OR when they brought her in, and no one knew what to say when I came out of that surgery.” He can see the sadness turning Liam’s face a pale grey.

“I’m sorry to hear all this, I didn’t mean to bring all this up.” Zayn says sullenly, taking the paper they’ve been working on and rolling it up to move the things out of the way.

“No, no.” Liam replies, “it’s been long enough. I don’t really tell people now, it’s just me, her and my mum when I have long days and that’s been okay a long while now.”

Zayn comes over to start washing his own hands now, “ It’s the hardest when something happens and you don’t get a chance to fight it, when the control to fix a thing is taken away from you, and now you have to live with the consequences of something you didn’t make a decision about. I lost _Ahan_ , Laila’s mum, because they class me as _goha_ white and without a family to call in on when I need someone. I would have just brought shame to their family name and they couldn’t have that it’s why I have Laila full time not her mum.”

“I don’t believe that you would have done that for a momen-”

But Zayn stops him, wet soapy fingers coming up to cover Liam’s mouth. He doesn’t realise he’s done it till his fingers are touching him, but this isn’t about him and that has got to be clear.

“I don’t know death, but I know the grief that comes from losing the one thing that ever mattered.”

Liam’s looking at him with this woeful eyes of his, obviously unhappy that he’s been stopped, but Zayn’s not really sure of what he’s meant to do with himself apart from not turning this into a pity party. But then Liam shakes his head and sits back down on the floor to tie his shoes back on. “When I lost her,” He starts, “it was like everything stopped making _sense_ , you know.” He says switching the subject again.

“Yeah,” He answers, because he does know.

Zayn dries off his hands and goes in search for his shoes, slipping them on before turning back to look at Liam who’s now rinsing out both their mugs after copious cups of tea.

“It’s why I draw, you know. It’s why I obsess and keep at something until I deem it close to perfect, because it means I don’t have to hear myself think. They barely want her to be with me cause now she’s getting older they think I’m ‘influencing’ her, but that the beauty of children, they love you with their entire being, even if you’re told over and over you aren’t enough, she makes everything _enough_.”

Liam bends his head and nods, agreeing. “Sometimes I think I’m getting better, but then she does something, or pulls a face, or says something in a funny accent, and it reminds me so much of her mum and it hurts like it’s a new thing.”

“ _Hey_.” Zayn whispers, walking over to where Liam’s standing. “I don’t know you all that well _yet_ , but something tells me you walked into my class for a reason, I can’t promise the world, but I can promise that the way you draw will change the way you see this life. Out there,” he continues pointing to the back of the door, “you are expected to do these great things every single day. Expected to save lives and be someone’s superhero, but in _here_ … you’re just _Liam_ , the man chasing after a high to fill a void someone deep within his soul.”

Zayn stops to make sure Liam’s still following. An intense stare follow his gaze, making Zayn lower his eyes for a moment to grab onto Liam’s outstretched ones. Hands trembling, fingers slipping into each other like the same way silk slide across skin

“Sounds like a plan.” It’s soft, but it’s definitely Liam trying his hardest to compose himself again.

“I’ll meet you in Oxford Circus at 6 tomorrow.” Liam says again, his voice a little stronger now, tightening the grip of their fingers as they smile at each other.

“I’ll text you.” He continues, his hands pulling him closer, into a hug now. “And thank you.” He breathes into his ear, making Zayn shudder for a moment.

He’s not really used to or fond of having near strangers this close to him, but somehow, with Liam, he doesn’t mind quite so much.

“Stop worrying about it.” Zayn says now pulling away just a tad, to look at Liam’s face again. “We should check on them now though, shouldn’t we? can’t believe they didn’t come out of there once.”

They both smile and Liam’s nods his head moving in a way that let’s Zayn know he’s to move first.

When he opens the door to the little room, the light is dimmed, the fairy lights Laila had insisted on are switched on, and cartoons are playing over his laptop. In the middle of the mountain of blankets and cushions, both girls lay asleep. Overalls thrown to the side so that they don’t damage any of the little fort they created.

Zayn opens the door as wide as it can go so that Liam is able to pop his head in to witness the same scene. Then he points. On the side of the small table lay two freshly made mugs, still drying on their perch.

As Zayn saunters over to slowly wake Laila up, he wonders what exactly he’s just walked himself into.

*

His phone is buzzing on his nightstand. It’s the next afternoon and Zayn’s body is tired and achy. He got home late because there was a major incident on the motor way, and it was close to two am when he finally made his way back into the city. It probably doesn’t help that he lives south of the river.

His curtains are still closed, but he doesn’t need open curtains to know that the spring sun is shining pretty harshly outside. On a good Saturday he’s awake by seven, doing chores and whatnot early so he can sit with his pencils and let the afternoon disappear, but not today. Today’s lie in is doing a bit much, even for his standards.

Before he turns to pay attention to his phone, his fingers come up to wipe the last remnants of sleep out of his eyes, shuffling up between the sheets to make himself sit up and rest his back against the headboard. Only then does his hand reach for his phone.

Zayn finds a video from Ahan of Laila, which he checks first, smiling widely when he sees the newspaper spread across the dining room table and art supplies covering its surface. Ahan has never been fond of big messes even if she’s a painter herself, so it’s always nice to see the box of paint out from the linen closet once in a while.

After that he checks the _four_ messages Liam sent.

He’s not received a Good Morning text in a while. It makes him smile even if it’s now past noon.

It seems that unlike him, Liam was up early this morning.

_I hope you don’t mind me texting you on WhatsApp, it’s just easier._

_I was hoping we’d meet a bit earlier, six seems a little late for some reason._

And the last text, the one that woke him up, _we’re still on for tonight, aren’t we?_

This last one makes Zayn stop for a moment to realise that he’s traversing dangerous waters by agreeing to seeing Liam outside of the prescribed hours, but he honestly, for the moment, he isn’t about to stop himself. I

In return he sends, _Hi, yes, sorry, long night, you woke me up, if I get ready now, we can meet around half 4, sounds any better?_

Zayn doesn’t even have time to find his bauble to pull his hair up into a quick bun, because his phone buzzes again.

_Ohh didn’t mean to wake you. But half 4 sounds better!_

_Don’t worry, it’s about time anyways! It sounds like a plan_ _👌_ _😁_

He sends before getting off the bed to make his way into the loo.

For a moment he lets himself revel in the hidden meaning of everything that’s happened from the moment Liam stepped foot in his class barely a week ago.

*

_Hey, just pulling out of Brixton, should be there in 10 mins_

Zayn’s hoping that the internet doesn’t cut out till the message sends, but both ticks pop up just as the train is engulfed in the tunnel blackness.

In the few minutes it takes him to reconnect to the internet when they pull into Stockwell, Liam’s replied.

_Hey, just switched at King’s Cross, do you know where the stock exchange is?_

Before replying, Zayn looks up from his phone, across to the empty seat in front of him. He can’t see the redness of his cheeks in the window, but he can definitely feel them.

He’s not about to tell Liam he worked at JDsports, a stone’s throw away from where he’s on about for six years while interning at every museum and gallery possible to even be considered for a teaching position at the Gallery. And even that started out as an unpaid internship until it was gathered that he was a trusted and well-trained painter.

He sighs, it’s part of the grind of living in London but he’s still ashamed of it, because he didn’t have a solid network behind him or connections. Just a kid fresh out of the care system not really knowing where he belongs.

Somewhere, deep down, Zayn knows this is primarily the reason that Ahan’s parents would have never agreed to a wedding because he comes from absolutely nowhere. It never stops hurting, nevertheless.

What he knows about his parents comes from a note tucked into one of his files some secretary found one day and gave it to him. That simply read _Mongrel child, unwed white mother, Pakistani father. Aged 4 months._ Zayn still carries it in the hidden pocket of his wallet, because it’s the only thing he’s known for certain about where he comes from.

He checks his phone, it’s just about gone half four, and now he’s officially late.

But he’s very sure Liam isn’t queer, no matter how much this feels like a first date.

Once the train pulls into Victoria, he remembers that he didn’t actually text Liam back, so he sends a short, _I’m in Victoria, be there soon_ _👌_ before shoving his phone inside his jacket to try to make his way through the field of people trying to squeeze themselves on.

Zayn will always hate the tube with passion.

Finally, when the doors open for his stop, Zayn braces himself to be pushed out with the crowd.

Saturday afternoon he decides is literally the worst time to come here.

Patiently he waits behind the tourists for a minute who take an age to decide which exit to take. He wants to intrude and help them, but he’s in a bit of a rush to get out today.

Zayn shakes his head knowingly and makes his way up the stairs towards the first free escalator he sees. He feels his phone buzz on his chest and takes it out to see what’s Liam’s said.

_Just got here, no rush, I just didn’t want you waiting on me like yesterday_

It’s funny how much fond Zayn’s already got for this man. It’s different from what he’s used too, but then again, Zayn doesn’t really entertain something that he knows will take him away from Laila. This is different though, Liam’s come to him through his work, not some shitty online app.

In that moment he realises he’s getting ahead of himself again, so her makes himself stop seeing too much into something that’s only in his head.

Barely makes it out the station before he spots Liam texting on his phone, right under the stock exchange sign, exactly where he said he’d be. Leaning against the red bricked wall and finishing off a cigarette, Zayn can’t stop himself from smiling to himself as he walks the last few steps to him.

Liam looks up at him and smiles. A full smile, one where even his eyes look happy. Zayn takes a second to appreciate how his hair is falling off his head, almost like he’s not put any product at all in it. The way his beard just sits exactly right, not long enough to be a full beard like his, but definitely not just a five o’clock shadow. And for the first time he’s properly noticing the dark coloured birthmark that sits in the nook of his neck.

“Hi.” He speaks, “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

Liam just shakes his head and laughs, “Nahh, I’m the one that’s dragged you out here two hours earlier remember?”

Zayn shrugs, “I don’t mind, I was still asleep when you started texting me though, some lorry blew up on the motorway last night, what’s usually just over three hours to go and come back, ended with me getting home at closer to three am. Things happen you know.”

“Shit man.”

“Yeah.” 

“Should have seen Luna’s face when I told her I’m seeing you again today?”

Zayn farrows his brows together as they start walking down Oxford Street without any particular destination in mind, “ _Good_ , I hope?”

Liam nods, “Yeah, I don’t really tend to go out all that much, so she got super excited about it. Plus all she could talk about last night when I got her home was how beautiful your hair is.” Zayn scoffs and Liam says, “I’m quoting!” laughing his head off. For the first time he realises there is a thick northern accent hidden in between his posh queen’s English intonation. It’s a sharp contrast from what Zayn’s familiar to hearing from him.

He wonders for a moment, how far up north he’s from.

“Well, tell her I say thank you, people always feel awkward about mentioning it you know.”

“Really?” He’s switched back to normal now, and Zayn’s not quite sure what to do with the information.

“Yeah,” He starts realising he’s overthinking again. “it’s not that common I guess, especially not on someone that looks like me.”

Liam stops for a moment, twisting his head to look at him, obviously assessing him.

“ _No!_ don’t do that!”

“Gotta let me appreciate your face at some point not just what you can do with your hands.”

“That’s bold.” He retorts, smiling. “Come on then,” grabbing Liam by his hand, not caring about the implications of what it all means.

“I’m not quite fond of you stood admiring my face in the middle of Oxford Street.”

“It’s the truth!” Liam protests, but he does nothing to retract his hand.

“How do you feel about Yo! sushi Mr Payne?” Zayn says smiling, as they walk past Selfridges.

Liam laughs, “I thought you only agreed to a Nando’s.”

“True, but I mean, we walked the opposite way and I’m not going back.” Zayn just about whines. It isn’t his usual behaviour but it’s one of the first beautiful days this April and he’s enjoying himself.

“I mean at this point, sure.”

“Wanna walked round Hyde Park though, it’s too early don’t you think?”

At this point Zayn realises he’s still dragging Liam down the street and they’re still kinda awkwardly holding hands.

He decides not to mention it.

“Ooohhh, brill idea that. Haven’t done that in years?”

“Really?”

“Hmm, it feels pointless coming all the way down here to bring Luna to a park.”

“True, if I’m honest, only used to be here a lot because I worked here.”

“Yeah, before the Gallery I was here pretty much every day except Sunday, gotta eat yanno.”

“True, nearly thirty and St. Thomas is my first proper hospital, before that and between both residencies I worked at McDonald’s.”

“No way.” Zayn laughs, crossing the street to pull them in Hyde. “There is literally _no way.”_

“Way, legit lived in a flat across from my mum, with my wife and two roommates. That’s four trainee doctors and a toddler.”

“Well, definitely in safe hands.” He replies, laughing.

“Maybe, I hated it with passion though. It’s one of those things that needed to be done to make ends meet really.”

“When I got out of care, they put me in this halfway house, if it weren’t for having _Islam_ to fall on, it would have been so easy to fall into something – well less advantageous you can say. Swore I’d never put Laila in a position like that.”

“You were in care?”

“Hmm, my entire life really. _Unloved_ from birth as it were. It doesn’t bother me anymore. You aren’t given more than you can handle you know.”

Liam stops, right in the middle of the footpath just inside the black gates of Hyde, like people aren’t having to walk around them. “Don’t say that, it’s ridiculously sad when those words are stringed together like that. I can’t think of anything more horrible then spending your life believing all this.” Liam’s grip on his hand tightens, almost like he’s physically pushing his upset down to keep it together.

“Sorry.” Liam says after a moment. “I don’t work A&E that much anymore, but I’ve seen things, a lot of things.”

He sighs and pulls Liam to the side so that they aren’t in the way of anyone coming on to the path they picked.

“ _Care_ … it does things to you. It’s never safe and mostly you’re left to your own devices until you’re not. Then you’re thrown out at sixteen and there is a lot of healing that needs doing for you to feel sort of _normal_. I wake up every day and choose to not live in my own head because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to do everything I do.”

There is this tinge in Liam’s eyes that make him wanna to drop this conversation badly. It’s not a discussion he ever planned to have, not with Liam and not with anyone else either.

“I get why you draw now. Why it comes so easy for you.”

Zayn shakes his head, cause no. “Nahh, when I say it’s practice, it’s genuinely practice. I left school with nothing, went to college to do an Access course which got me my Maths and English and a ticket to uni. I have a degree in Literature actually, was meant to get my QTS and teach A level but, I kinda never got round to it, barely made it through uni as it was. Mental stuff you know.” Zayn stops to shakes his head. This isn’t something he just tells people. Cause it hurts a little too much most days.

They walk down beneath the canopy of trees, away from the few people splashed across the green. 

“So, instead.” He continues, looking forward instead of at Liam, “I got a portfolio together, scraped my way through a lot of unpaid internships and ended up in the restoration department at the gallery. It took another year, but they finally trusted me with my solo class and that only happened because one of the senior partners I was working under liked my work. It’s been just about seven years now. I do what I do to get away from everything, everyone, to get away from the things that hurt too much to talk about. It’s why I don’t mind seeing you out of hours or spending my days bound up in sketchbooks. I like the one on one. I don’t really interact with anyone other than Laila, not like this, because it’s too hard sometimes to even get out of bed, let alone have any sort of commitment that I know will just cause stress.”

“I’m so glad I decided to come down to your class.” Liam almost whispers, grabbing his hand and holding it properly now, not just the clumsy grip they were doing before. All he can think about is how soothing it feels to have someone trying to comfort the hurt out of you.

“Me too. Sometimes it’s weird to think I didn’t know you a week ago.” The grip around his fingers tightens, and he wants so badly to ask Liam what the hell they’re doing but in all honesty he’s a little scared too, because even if everything is indicating that Liam is queer, he can’t make it fact.

“How do you do it?” Comes the question a few seconds later when they’ve just about walked in enough to stop hearing the traffic.

Zayn likes to make it to the lake then just spend a few hours reading with Laila usually, so it’s definitely nice to come in a different context.

“Do what?”

“Make everything seem … _okay_.”

“I _pray. A lot_. When I have too, when I don’t. When it’s a bad day even on a good one. It keeps me grounded, keeps me on a path that is suitable to be able to parent a six-year-old. Keeps me from doing something stupid.”

“It’s always a lesson in humbleness, when I take a moment to step away from Dr Payne.”

“What do you mean?” Zayn says, looking at Liam for the first time since they’re hands slipped into each other’s.

“I grew up having _everything_. Literally, _everything_. I went to one of three independent schools in Wolves. Got into Cambridge for medicine, got married at twenty-two, Had Luna at twenty-four.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about your entire life.” Zayn’s feels himself smiling but he’s hurting a bit too much on the inside. He’s never been one for deep conversations.

“It’s okay. You know, I came down here right after I lost Melia, gave me time away from the areas I was comfortable with. It’s different down here, no one really cares about what school you went too or what car you drive. I only took off my ring a couple of months ago and people at work think I’m about to get a divorce. Gossip you know.” He stops talking, fingers from his free hand reaching up under his sweater to pull out a necklace. It’s a wedding ring, a plain gold band sings looped around a simple chain.

“I hate that I don’t trust the people at work enough to be comfortable opening up about things, and that sucks because I spend twelve sometimes twenty – four hour shifts with them and I still find it easier to be by myself out of the OR. But then, _then_ I go apply for a class to take on my rest days to get out of my head for a bit, and after a couple of seasons on the waiting list, it turns out to be _you_.”

“Hopefully, a good thing?”

“Oh.” Liam stops a few steps before him, “Definitely a good thing.”

Zayn looks at down at their interlaced fingers.

“You don’t mind this do you?” Liam’s _finally_ asking, _finally_ addressing the elephant in the park. His voice is shaking, his accent strong, and Zayn doesn’t quite know what to say.

So he shakes his head instead and Liam stops walking to swing himself in front of him, coming closing to him, letting go of his hand and grabbing his waist instead, his hands finding the back pockets of his jeans.

Zayn’s just about stopped breathing, because he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this much close contact.

“Do you mind me here?” it’s soft, Liam’s basically whispering now. Zayn’s too scared to flick his eyes up to make direct eye contact with Liam’s. So he settles on ogling his full lips instead, and the way Liam’s biting at his bottom lip.

Zayn forces himself to shake his head again, because he’s literally lost for words.

“How about if I do this?” And then Liam’s pushing them closer together and he’s pressing his lips to Zayn’s.

His tummy is doing all types of somersaults, but he does control himself enough to respond how he’s meant too.

It’s his first kiss in nearly six years and Zayn’s not sure if Liam needs to know about it.

When Liam pulls back, he’s talking but Zayn’s brain isn’t registering anything.

He’s just can’t believe what’s just happened. And all he can think about is Liam’s soft persistent lips on his.

For a moment, he doesn’t realise that Liam’s actually apologising, somewhere in the fogginess of the moment, Zayn snaps back to normal.

“No.” He asserts. It’s firmer then he thought it would be, but its done its job because Liam’s stopped chattering.

“I’m not sorry you did that. I’m not _sorry_. Unexpected _yes_ , but am I happy that’s happened? More than I was five minutes ago and trust, I was happy just talking to you then.”

They both stand there a little stunned at what’s just taken place between them. Then Liam’s face breaks into a smile and he’s coming in to press another kiss to the side of the cheek, close to his ear, making Zayn squirm because he’s always been ticklish there.

“You know, I woke up still believing you’re _straight_ this morning.” Zayn says, definitely a little more confident now.

Liam huffs, still smiling and shakes his head. “Nahh man, queer culture to the core , I just tend to hide it well.”

“Well you’ve got that posh boy thing going on."Zayn laughs "wouldn’t have spotted it, and trust I’ve been looking. I’m Ace, by the way.” He supplies. “Well on the Ace scale. I haven’t been with anyone since Ahan, so there we are.”

“I don’t really believe that.” Liam says, grabbing his hand a bit more confidently now and walking down the path to catch the sunset just in time.

“Not you being Ace, I mean, just you not being with anyone, well you being Ace too to be honest.”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve been too busy with Laila to even think about it. Like trying to prove I’m good for her you know.”

“Please, ending up with you as a dad seems like the best thing that could have happened for her.”

“Yeah, I’d like to believe that.” Zayn takes a deep breath before continuing. Taking Liam’s hand again to walk further into the park. “They called CPS on me twice since I got full custody when she was two you now, trying to say I didn’t have a big enough flat and that she isn’t looked after most of the time because I was too busy working trying to support both of us.” Zayn shrugs, “Seeing everything you know, everything that happened with me, it’s the one thing I couldn’t let happen.” Zayn stops talking for a moment then says, “I’m quite the talker, I tend to overshare, _a lot_ , especially if I like you and I, well it feels safe, so I’m just warning you and telling you it’s okay to stop me. Sorry.”

“Nahh, don’t need to stop you, is it bad to say that I haven’t thought of anything else since I met you?”

Zayn blushes squeezing at Liam’s fingers between them. “I can say the same thing about you.”

Liam stops to lean in to plant another kiss on his lips again, and Zayn can’t help but finally lean in to grab Liam by the hips and holding him there.

Then an idea comes to Zayn.

“How would you feel about catching the tube to the square and spending the night up at my roof.” He chuckles at Liam’s confused face, “The studio I mean, silly. We can order something on the way?”

For a moment, he can see Liam’s eyes literally light up.” We can do that?”

“I’ve worked there seven years, can do anything I want, as long as it’s confined to the room of course.”

“That’s seriously the coolest thing.”

Zayn squishes his nose and smiles, “It kinda is, there is an entire view of the Trafalgar and beyond up there.”

Liam looks away from him and around, it’s close to sunset now and they make a small final dash to find a bench they can sit on. It’s April in London, too cold for the tourists still, meaning the park is still relatively quiet.

“Thank you, by the way, because I haven’t said that word once since I started spilling my guts out.”

Liam laughs, his arm going round his shoulder so that Zayn can lean into him. “Zayn, I’ve kinda done the same thing from the moment we met. Coming up behind you early startling you whilst you were praying to fumbling my way through my reasoning as to why I needed to change the day, all you’ve done is listen to me too. And still wanting to help me even if I was being inconvenient. Man, I couldn’t have picked a worse day for you to see me.”

“Nahh, stop that, yesterday was just _unfortunate_.” Zayn shushes, lifting his brows up into his hairline, “I’m not expecting another lorry to blow up next Friday. However it might be a bit easier if you came over? I have a studio at home and the girls would be a little more comfortable rather than shut in one tiny room for a few hours. I mean if you want. I don’t wanna push you into something like that too quick.”

“No, I think I like the idea better. I should have brought her tablet yesterday, but I was rushing and forgot.”

“They found what to do anyways. Might take both mugs home so they can sit and paint them. Keeps them busy for a bit.”

“I genuinely love these ideas of yours, you know.”

“I’m a creative hun, it’s my thing. Always _creating_.” From somewhere on top of him, Liam’s laughing

“Incredible.” Liam speaks, just as the sun is trying to prise the last of its amber limbs over the contours of the water. It was the first sunset Zayn had sat down to watch this year. The sky was dyed a rich pomegranate pink, sparks of orange bursting through. Liam’s fingers holding onto his thigh whilst Zayn’s hands rest gently around Liam’s arm.

He’s still not sure what he’s got himself into, but Zayn’s sure he’s one step closer to finding out.

*

An hour later Liam is sat down on the floor playing about with some new pencils Zayn had just gotten in the mail. His hair is now pushed back away from his face, coat off, shoes beside the door. He only managed to put one light on before the text came through that the food was just about to arrive.

When he hears Zayn’s voice walking back into the room, Liam looks up. His eyes follow Zayn as he places the brown paper bags down on the desk.

“I have to get the key. Please put your coat on it’s gonna be cold till I put the heater on.” Liam smiles at him and Zayn walks past him to mess up his hair. His hand going through Liam’s full head of wavy chocolate brown hair. Liam let’s out a happy laugh before getting up to go check on the chicken.

“You have a heater?”

“I have everything babes.”

“I love this.”

Zayn laughs, “Same.”

Zayn quickly takes the key from its hook and unlocks the door that leads outside.

He hadn’t been up there since new year’s when he’d taken Laila up to watch the fireworks. It was the first time he’d deemed her old enough to be up that late but as usual he wasn’t in the mood to spend twenty pounds to get access to the riverside, when he could see it for free a few minutes away.

As he climbs up the corkscrew stairs, he’s careful to not bang his head on the metal. He’s never understood why the light switch had been put at the top.

When he flips it on and finds the key that opens the actual bit of balcony space that the Gallery had provided him with. The space wasn’t very wide, but it was long enough to make up for it. Rows of plants line the tall railing, from the ground looking up, you wouldn’t notice the little space existed, and that’s one major thing he loves about it.

He thanks God that it hadn’t been a rainy week, or else the large slate tiles would be still soaking.

When he had just been allocated the room and Laila was still a baby, he used to spend every minute possible up here, especially during the summer months. Laila had had her first walk here, where she learnt to write and read and the first place, she held her first painting brush.

In so many ways he’s been so blessed to have all this right in the epicentre of the town he loves.

Once the door is open, he drags out the box he keeps up there full of roof supplies. Then the rolled-up rugs, and a box of battery powered fairy lights. From the corner of the tight indoor space he lifts over the gas heater over the small step, rolling it over towards the far end so that he has space to lay down the rugs.

Zayn looks down through the glass roof and catches Liam looking up, obviously wondering what he’s doing.

So Zayn knocks on the pane and opens one of the windows, “Come up then, you can set up with me, but hurry, don’t really fancy eating cold chicken.”

Liam laughs, “Set up?”

“You’ll see, through the second door next to the loo.”

He watches as Liam, grabs both bags and his coat before sauntering his way into the darkness.

Zayn just has enough time to shut and lock the window, before Liam’s head pops out of the door.

In the next few seconds, they lay down the white large faux sheepskin rugs over the tiles, arranging the floor pillows around them. From the box, Zayn takes out a rotating lazy Susan and places it right in the middle of their space, as well as plates, cutlery, and cups.

“It’s gonna get cold pretty soon,” Zayn starts, “Why don’t you dish things out whilst I get the heater going.”

Liam’s just stood there in almost awe. It makes Zayn smile. “Told you I have everything.” He says, as he moves to sort out their heat, running up an extension from the inside, under both rugs and plugging it into the electric.

He can hear Liam digging around the box, for a dish cloth to wipe things down before he puts food on them.

_Zayn’s kind of man._

As the heater kicks to life, a blast of heat hits his hair so that he’s recoiling down away from the main warmth. He can feel his ears burning as the synthesised flames blast on. Zayn wheels it a little forward closer to them and adjusting it so that it’s pointing to where Liam’s sitting before settling on the floor right next to him, where he’s already eating.

“It’s a little cold, but not too bad.” Liam says between swigs of coke. “You really do have everything huh.”

“Yeah, Laila kinda love spending time here. I’ll put the lights up in a bit, I really do hate the yellow of inside.” Zayn says, pointing towards the still light studio underneath them.

“It’s ridiculous how cool this is.”

“I think that wears on with time. But I still remember how beautiful it was the first night I spent up here.”

“Alone?”

“Hmm.” He says between bites. “I used to spend a lot of nights here in the beginning, when I was only renting a room, I kinda needed more space than that, so I used to bring her here. Means I could work and look after her. Then Ahan was ordered home and this became a bit of a sanctuary.”

“It’s sad what happened with Ahan.”

And well, Zayn wasn’t exactly expecting that. He stops to chew up the food he’s eating so he can answer him properly, because sometimes things deserve the respect they have, and he really can’t do that with food falling out of his mouth.

“It wasn’t like I wasn’t anticipating what came when it did. In the beginning she didn’t wanna tell them about Laila. But then she did, and they met me, and everything was fine, until they realised, I had nothing to my name and not a penny saved in the bank. Then I was a _problem_ , because there was no way I’d ever have enough money for a decent wedding. It was already _Haram_ that she slept with me, then we made a _baby_ and it was like the world ended. It’s one of those where community standing came before their daughter’s happiness and choices.”

“What’s Haram?”

“Oh, sorry, Haram just means something it’s a _sin_.”

“No, don’t do that. I’ll catch up eventually.”

This makes Zayn smile, because not everyone is _this_ sympathetic when it comes to Islam.

“I don’t think finding or making love is a sin, no matter which religion you follow.” Liam’s saying. Zayn agrees and wonders just how he’s managed to get here without a major freak out yet but then he reminds himself that God knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I’ve only been reclaiming parts of me that were taken away as a child now, as an adult. It’s an incredibly hard way to play catch up when there is twenty odd years to figure out, but yeah, it’s made me much more guarded in who I let close to me and Laila.”

Liam stops to look at him, searching his face, watching Zayn eat.

“Would you have?” he asks quietly.

“Would I have what?”

“Married her?”

“Oh.” He nods his head. “ _Definitely_. But I would have never made choose between her family and well, _me.”_ He says, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s the one thing I could have never provided a surrogate for.”

“If I’m honest,” Liam starts, downing the rest of his can of coke, “I don’t think she would have cared much. You’re kinda the jackpot.”

Zayn laughs, “Oh please, don’t flatter me.” He speaks taking the last bite of his mash, before throwing his leftovers back in the bag. He goes in search for some napkins while he’s at it.

He’s pleasantly demolished that.

“Wouldn’t call myself a jackpot or a pot or anything special. From where I am, that’s you Li.”

“Li – I like that.” He says bringing an arm over Zayn to press him closer to him. “You are a jackpot love, and I’m gonna make it a mission to believe me soon.” Liam whispers. Pressing his cheek against Zayn’s temple.

Zayn lets himself sit in the moment because as unexpected as this is, it still means the world that Liam seems to like him like _this,_ in this intimate way.

“I might have some baby wipes downstairs.”

“Where?” Liam asks, “you’ve done enough tonight, my turn to feel helpful.”

“Fine, I’ll wait then put the lights up after, they’re in the little room the girls were in yesterday, oh and lock the door please, oh you don’t have a curfew home, do you?”

“Luna is with mum; she was more than happy to spend the night, I let her cause I didn’t know when I’d get back.” Liam drawls, pressing another kiss to his cheek before standing up.

When Zayn stands himself, he takes his shoes off and puts them to the side, then he turns towards the view in front of him and pulls his hair into a bun rather than leaving in its messy French plait its been in all night.

Zayn then takes a moment to look at the square below him. To the left are the four lions, beyond that Big Ben covered in scaffolding. Right across from him sits the only rooftop bar in the square. Loud music is playing right out of it but not enough to bother him. The constant traffic of the city is like a hummingbird, slipping in and out of ear shot when you pay attention to it. From this position, Zayn has a proclivity to never leave.

He takes a deep breath and wills himself to remember this moment. Whether Liam is just caught up in this for a few weeks or he’ll have a bit more time with him. He’ll always remember the feeling of knowing that he’s safe seeping right out of his bones.

And that’s not happened, not in a long, _long_ time in a lifetime ago.

“Hey, found them.” Liam says as his head pops through the door first. Zayn laughs. “Man, I’ve 5’9 and that door has never caused issues. Then _you_ came along.” Zayn points and laughs, because he didn’t realise it would cause a problem for Liam.

“I’m 6’2, love, that’s where the problem lies.” Liam laughs, “Dimmed most of the spotlights and the door is locked. You weren’t expecting visitors, were you?” Liam tries to wink, that’s a tries, but fails miserably and he’s absolutely adorable trying to play it off.

“Nahh.” Zayn replies, sticking his hand out to grab the wipe Liam’s offering.

“But security tends to open random doors. So I installed the latch cause I used to sleep here before.”

“Sleep here too?”

“Inside usually,” Zayn says, pointing downstairs, “but uh yeah, when I have large commission pieces, usually for ‘friends’ of the gallery, i.e. posh white folk, the turnaround is pretty quick.”

“What do you mean?”

“They usually want copies of famous paintings we have in storage to hang in their mansions. I like to fuck it up and sign the back with my name so they can’t sell them as the real thing.”

Zayn says this as he’s placing the lights around the railings, when he turns back at Liam, he’s already looking.

“Why are they like this,” It’s more than a statement then a question and it makes Zayn laugh

“I call them rich people antics and the Gallery always wants donations, thirsty as fuck for that money man, those aren’t my favourites though, I love restoration work.”

“So you don’t just sketch then.”

Zayn shakes his head as he comes back to lay down on the pillows where Liam’s sprawled out.

“I do anything to do with paintings. I immensely prefer to work with charcoal if it’s my own work, but I love bringing old paintings back to life, it’s one of those things, where you know that your brush is going over someone else’s, let’s say _Rembrandt’s_ work, cleaning it, making it shine, it does something to my soul, but honestly, if you want me to paint I will, if you want me to sketch a quick thing to give to your girlfriend I will, if you want a colour with me I’d do that do, _hell_ I’ll even finger paint if it means I get paid for it.”

“Smart that, incredible too.” Liam says laughing, finally moving to take off his coat.

“Nahh, it gave me an in here, plus it makes me _happy_ so.”

“Come here.” Liam says, pulling him by his sweater and dragging his head up into his lap as he settles down himself. “Sometimes you can’t tell what a person’s been through by just looking at them. I don’t think you hear this enough, but you’re _awesome_ … you know, absolutely brilliant to talk to as well. It helps a little that I get to kiss you sometimes too.

Zayn huffs, “Just sometimes?” he says, trying to hide his growing smile.

Liam doesn’t reply, he comes down to lightly press a kiss to his lips, however. “Maybe sometimes won’t be enough from now.”

Zayn laughs. “Might make you wait for anything else a while though. I like you and this – a lot – so just remember that when it’s six months from now and I’m just warming up to anything more then – um – this.”

“Hey –” Liam starts but trails off for a moment, stopping to pull out a blanket from the box to cover them in. “I didn’t walk into today wanting anything more than wanting to spend time with you away from canvases and charcoal, but the more we do, the more it feels that I’ve known you before, somewhere deep, somewhere I don’t know how to explain yet. It doesn’t feel like a few hours here and there, it feels like a lot longer already.”

Zayn nods pressing his lips together in agreement. And then, _then_ Liam’s quietly asking if he could possibly touch and play with his hair. Zayn doesn’t reply, but his fingers do go up to untie the bauble he’d just tied. No one really asks for things, not in settings like this really.

“Loved this from the moment I saw you.”

“Really?”

“You have no idea.” Then Liam proceeds to gently caress his temple, down past his ear and straight to his beard. When Liam’s hand does eventually make it up to his hair, Zayn’s at great risk of falling asleep.

 _Not yet_. He thinks, _Not yet._

They keep talking, for what seems like forever, and then, Liam’s pointing up towards the sky. The soft velveteen blanket of star lights are singing to him, of a time long ago for galaxies unknown.

 _But_ Zayn realises he’s happy here.

In the lap of a man he did not know a mere few days ago. And he wonders, that maybe, just maybe, he’s finally found the universe that fits.

It makes Zayn want to go home and write down every single minute, of this night, this detail of this _man_ – this new adventure he’s let himself be put on.

_Inshallah – Zayn reminds himself. Nothing is ever given if you aren’t ready for it._

_And oh, oh he’s so ready._

*

When he wakes up, it’s light outside. Soft pale gold hitting his face as Zayn comes to the realisation that they’ve spent the night outside.

He shuffles about to sit up, hands immediately going up to fix the mess on his head.

Liam’s asleep still, tugged under all the blankets Zayn kept in the box. The heater is turned to low, and he’s feeling the chill of the spring morning dew hitting his face.

When his hair is tied away and neat, he realises he can’t leave Liam to sleep like this.

He doesn’t wanna wake him up, but _he’s got too._

“Hey… hey!” He whispers slowly, his fingers going up to touch the side of his cheek with the palm of his hand. “Hey sleepyhead – come on.”

Liam stirs, his arm going over his face to not be hit by the intense light of the upcoming sun. Zayn moves so that he’s on his knees, turns up the heat a little more and then climbs up closer to Liam as he wakes slowly. The soft warm a welcome sensation on his back.

“Probably should have woke me when I fell asleep.” He tells Liam moving his hand to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Ahh, couldn’t bear to move you.” Liam says groggily, taking Zayn by the shoulders and pulling him into him, landing a small kiss on Zayn’s lips.

After that Liam pushes up for sit up, Zayn splayed all over his lap. “Really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans by the way.”

Zayn laughs, “Eh, used to it to be honest.”

“Come on,” Zayn says, pulling at Liam’s arm a little forcefully, “come watch the sunrise, the sun will come up over Big Ben.”

Liam laughs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the hand Zayn isn’t pulling the life out of before standing with both his blankets over him. “That heater is a God send.” Liam says as his arm comes over his shoulder to cover him too as they stand against the wet railing.

“Morning, Mr Malik.”

“Hi you.”

Liam smiles, and Zayn leans in for a kiss, a proper one this time. One where his he can feel his ears turning pink and his hands going clammy, one that leaves him a bit breathless and needy for a tad more.

They stand there after that, watching London beneath them waking up from its nightly slumber. The still empty square, the vacant taxis whizzing past, the half set up market stalls. Zayn takes the moment to breath in the goodness that he can feel rising out of this situation. 

“I can’t believe this.” Liam is whispering, pulling him closer, “Can’t believe I slept the whole night without waking up once.”

“What do you mean?” he says looking up to stare at him unashamedly now.

“Oh, confession time.” Liam says, his eyes always sparkling from the still soft side beam of pale yellow hitting his face.

“I sleep with an electric blanket.”

Zayn, almost giggles out a, “No way.”

“Way.” Liam says.

“It’s funny, but not in a bad way, just unexpected is all.”

After a moment Zayn continues, “How do you feel about some tea?”

“Ooohhh, yes please, oh and have you got an extra phone charger, cause it’s probably dead now? I need to check on Luna.”

Zayn nods and says, “I’ll bring it with the tea.”

“How do you feel about breakfast?”

This makes him laugh, “Soooo, he drawls out, “I get dinner and breakfast hmm, spoiling me too much man.”

“Nahh,” Liam says, “Haven’t really started yet.”

“I’m gonna _go…_ now,” Zayn says pulling away from where Liam’s holding him, “before it gets too mushy and I wouldn’t wanna move.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Liam lingers, tugging at his fingers to pull him in for a yet another kiss again.

“Gotta control that.” Zayn laughs, cheeks turning a violent scarlett shade as he pulls away.

“Watch me.” Liam retorts finally letting him go so that Zayn walks away to get his stuff together.

_And that’s that._

*

Later, when everything is packed up and they’re back downstairs, Zayn instructing Liam into the little ensuite his studio is fitted it. Smiling when he pulls out a drawer full of clothes Liam can pick from. Eyes full of something Zayn can’t explain yet.

While Liam’s showering, Zayn takes to the large stainless-steel sink to perform Wudu. This is the time in the morning he won’t give up for anyone, not even handsome Mr Payne.

Quietly Zayn rolls out his carpet and finds his Qu’ran and qibla from one of the shelves on top of the sink. Not that he needs it now, but it’s one of those things he keeps with him.

He gets lost in the moment, like he normally does, and yet he’s very aware that this balances him, keeps him happy, keeps him whole.

It’s only when it’s obvious that Zayn’s done, does Liam break the spell they’re under and speaks.

“I keep walking in whilst you’re doing it.”

Comes his voice from behind him. It makes Zayn smile, but he doesn’t turn around to face him just yet, instead he focuses on rolling up his mat before he does.

“Was hoping you were a man of long showers.” Zayn laughs.

“I’m a dad and a doctor… no such thing, I’m afraid.” Liam replies coming to sit right beside him, dropping a kiss onto Zayn’s cheek whilst settling. He smells of Zayn’s pomegranate body wash and he’s not sure how he’s meant to handle that type of information.

“You’ll have to show me properly one of these days.” Liam’s saying quietly.

“You don’t mind it?”

Liam shakes his head, pulling Zayn into him by the shoulder. “No, I actually think it’s a beautiful practice.”

“It’s so nice to hear someone say that actually.” He says fulling leaning into Liam’s chest now.

“I never thought I’d get to witness it so up close. It feels like a bit of _a privilege_.”

Zayn smiles, “ _It is_ , in more ways than one, it means a lot that you think that.”

Liam doesn’t talk, just pulls him closer, chin over Zayn’s hair, arms around his shoulders, legs splayed out entwined with his.

_Zayn think he’ll be happy he never had to move from right this moment, when things are still innocent and pure._

“Why don’t you go freshen up.” Liam says after a bit, “I’ll call the little in the meantime.”

He nods and goes to stand up, but not before Liam pulls at his shirt to drop a kiss into his cheek.

_Zayn’s on the verge of coming really close to not ever wanting to walk away from this beautiful, beautiful man._

*

Later that night, after he picks up Laila from the station, she’s asking about Liam profusely, words not coming out of her mouth fast enough the moment they leave Kings Cross.

“Meri – jaan.” He finally stops her on the train home. “I hope you didn’t go tell your Daadi about Mr Liam, did you?”

But then Laila shaking her head, meaning Zayn can relax a little. “No Baba,” She says, “And I only told Ammi about him more because you told her us you were going to see him again yesterday.”

“What did Ammi say?” he asks.

“Nothing really, just that it’s nice you’re okay with making plans and meeting people again, maybe that you’ll be happy like she is with Amir.”

 _Amir._ The reminder of what he should have been. the lawyer with his own practice, clean cut, and everything her parents should approve of. But at this point, all he cares about is seeing Ahan happy, and even with all the boxes he does tick, they still haven’t consented to a marriage.

Sometimes they wonder if they’ll ever do.

“I am happy Leli, I’m happy because I have you.” She stands from the seat next to him and lands somewhere between his chest and his knees, holding her up so that she doesn’t fall onto the dotted blue floor of the tube.

“I like Mr Liam.” Laila says, her arms coming up to hold onto his neck, settling sideways on his lap. Wheeling her little luggage closer to them, so that someone can now sit in her vacant seat.

“I like Mr Liam too.” Zayn chuckles into her neck as she laughs happily.

“When are you seeing him again?”

“Friday. He’s coming to our house – you can use your new projector whilst I’m busy with him.”

“Can you put High School Musical on, on Disney+?”

Zayn laughs, “Probably, I just have to look it up.”

_“Epic.”_

“Who taught you that word?” Zayn asks still smiling.

In return Laila cocks up her head to kiss his cheek.

“You said it on the phone one day… love you Baba, you’re awesome.” She whispers, cuddling up further into him half asleep, head tugging into Zayn’s neck.

After a little while, she asks, “Can he draw good?” switching to talking about Liam again.

“Leli, it’s, can he draw well?” Zayn says, dropping a kiss into her hair. Her hair smells like oranges and it reminds him so much of Ahan’s as it grows.

“Can he draw well?” She repeats dutifully.

“Yep really good actually.”

“Do you think he can draw a big _Iron Man_ like you did on the wall at home?”

“ _Probably,_ if I ask him. He’s good, like really, _really_ good.”

They stop discussing Liam for a second time, and Zayn takes the opportunity to close his eyes.

Zayn remembers the first night they moved into their new house. The first house he didn’t have to share with anyone else.

He had worked so hard to scrap together the deposit, but it was so worth it in the end.

He remembers the white cot she slept in till she was nearly four and his mattress on the floor, the only two bits of furniture he owned at that point and the copious amounts of art supplies in boxes, remembers all their clothes in black garbage bags, a throwback to his childhood. Remembers how he couldn’t get her to get down that night because she was used to their roommate’s music wafting through the flat. Remembers how he had to sing her to sleep and now that is still reserved for precious or important occasions.

He remembers shuddering looking at the blank white walls and soiled wallpaper that the previous owner had left behind.

So of course, Zayn spent those first new nights in one of his spare rooms turning it into a studio. And the first thing he did was sketch out Tony Stark because well – because _he could_ and there wasn’t a landlord going to tell him off for it _._

Zayn had bought a fixer – upper. Something he’s worked on and will continue to work on. Renovating everything mostly himself and contracting the bigger work, like Laila, a lifelong project.

It’s a little far from town, but Brixton is only a twenty-minute train away. He just has to prepare for a work a little earlier but having a somewhere he calls his own – is probably the second thing he’s most proud off after Laila.

“Baba.” Laila says softly, poking with her hand on his chest. “We’re here.”

When he looks up at her, she’s already standing in front of him, waiting on him to get himself together. He didn’t even notice her getting off him. The night in the cold and the gruelling class left him exhausted today.

“Come on then.” He smiles at her before standing up. “Let’s get you home.”

*

The next _few_ days sink into each other, between a new restoration project for work and Laila he hasn’t really got time for anything else.

One of the good things that’s come out of meeting Liam is his intermittent texting when he’s either on break or at home, as a result they tend to come in at weird times of the day or night which shift he’s on, but still a welcome distraction from his usual routine.

In the two-hour gap that Laila’s naps, he’s been sat there texting Liam like a schoolboy with a crush. It’s _Friday,_ the only day they don’t typically spend at the Gallery and Zayn adores putting her to sleep in the middle of the day rather than having to enough activities to entertain her the entire morning and afternoon.

 _Then_ Liam’s asking for his address because he’ll be at his house in a few hours.

After Zayn sends it, he sends a quick, _might be easier to drive down, less chance of getting lost_ too which Liam replies, _decided on that already, thought Luna might sleep in the car on the way back._

 _Bless._ Zayn texts, _see you around half 4 again?_

_Bit earlier I think, thank god for half term_

_Ooohhh tru, forgot for a moment I home school LOL_

Liam doesn’t even give him time to get off his desk to prepare a late lunch before his phone is buzzing in his pocket.

_i SWEAR you’re something else, gotta learn to be half a productive as you man_

_Yeah yeah,_ Zayn replies smiling as he makes his way down the carpeted stairs. _I’m leaving in half an hour, gotta get going, I’ll text you when I’m close_

 _Cool._ Zayn sends, _see you soon_ _😜_

 _See you love_ _😘_ Comes the answer and Zayn’s tummy is still not used to the feeling of intense giddiness yet. Zayn shoves his phone in his pocket and tries, that’s _tries_ to get on with his chores.

*

“They’re _HERE.”_ Laila’s screaming getting off the sofa to run across the room to him. “Just pulled into the driveway Baba!” She’s screeching happily as she makes her way into the kitchen where he’s making some coffee.

He’s just finished cleaning down the counters and Zayn think he deserves his well earnt coffee break.

“Okay, _okay_!” He laughs, grabbing her as she runs straight into his legs as he’s seated at the island. “They probably heard you shouting all the way outside.” Zayn says, standing up. “Go one then, you could have just gone to open the door.”

“Really?”

 _“Laila_ , just go, it’s like no one comes for classes here, like ever.” Zayn laughs and she giggles. “I know Baba, but you like him, makes him special.” She gets in before running off.” And well, she’s right. Intuitive that one.

Zayn looks around for the last time, it’s as clean as it’s going to get at this point. It’s not to say he isn’t on top of his cleaning schedule but sometimes, he just doesn’t really _bother._

His house isn’t the biggest, however the open plan layout of the kitchen, living and dining room does make it seem so and he’s still in love with the light grey colouring running through everything, makes him seem a tad well - _grown_.

Zayn walks behind Laila to the front door, where she’s still waiting on him to arrive before they open the large double white front door.

He can’t lie, he’s ridiculously nervous as to what Liam might think of it, because after all, Liam’s a surgeon and he can only imagine the type of mortgage he can afford.

Zayn catches himself just in time to not overthink too much about the situation.

“Laila!” Is the first thing they hear the minute she swings the door open.” In turn Laila reaches out to pull her into a giant hug like she’s known Luna her entire life. Zayn can’t help but look at Liam, who’s stood there smiling his head off, clutching a dessert box from Peggy Porschen, Zayn moves backwards to let them in. Shoes and coat left hurriedly by the loveseat as both girls take off running up the stairs and into Laila’s room.

“Hey.”

 _“Hey.”_ Zayn smiles happily, “Fair game to say they’re just as enchanted by each other.”

“Hmm.” Liam replies, stepping out of his shoes and coat. “I wonder where they get that from.” He says, pulling Zayn into him for a kiss, careful not to ruin the cakes when he’s done.

“Missed your pretty face.” Liam says into his neck before pulling away. Zayn can’t help but fall into a soft hug, hiding his face in the crook of Liam’s neck

“Tea?” He asks when they finally make their way into the kitchen. “Oh please, gosh can’t believe how lovely this is Zayn.” Liam compliments looking at the large mural painting of a peacock, right over where the fireplace sits.

“You drew this?” He says quietly walking over to touch the paint, not expecting an answer really.

“I found my favourite chinoiserie wallpaper and copied it for free, just made it white and gold.”

“You’re incredible, fucking incredible.” Liam speaks, louder this time, coming to the marble island when he hears the kettle boiling.

Zayn sits next to him after he hands him his tea to finish off the rest of his coffee, smiling when Liam reaches his hand out pull him by his plait into a hungrier kiss this time.

“You didn’t have to.” He says pointing at the box, when Liam leaves his lips thoroughly plump and his heart happy, “ah, didn’t get a choice, Luna can’t help but shout about it every time we pass through Victoria.”

“Should see Laila and _Elan_ , especially the one near Oxford Street.”

They both laugh and Zayn tells him that he’s been replaced in the Sunday class by an Asian girl who couldn’t stop making eyes at him.

“Expected though.” Liam smiles, holding onto his hair still. “I kinda basically did the same thing.”

“Um, more subtle, but… I was _actually_ interested in you.” Zayn counters voice high and happy.

“Really now,” Comes the answer and Zayn can’t help but laugh.

“Bring your cup then.” He speaks again when he’s rinsing his own mug in the sink.

“I like this much better than the floor of the studio.” Liam speaks as he’s following him through the house and up to where his home studio is. “You’re gonna hate me in a minute then, cause we’re staying in the only room not carpeted.”

“Ahhhh,” Liam accentuates, “Was hoping for a bit of pad.”

“I have pillows here too.” Zayn supplies laughing.

He knocks on Laila’s door, hearing a _come in Baba_ before swinging it open.

“Did you manage to get the movie on the projector?” He asks looking at the still empty wall. Obviously not managing even after he showed her three times the day before.

“I have it on the laptop," she says, "been waiting for you.”

“You could have just come down to ask me.”

“I didn’t wanna get in the way of, Hey _Mr Liam_.” She smiles sing songing Liam’s name as she sees him behind Zayn at the door.

“Hey sweetie.” He replies happily as Zayn makes his way into Laila’s school room, connected to her room by a barn door he had installed when she had first started school.

“Remember,” he says as he’s playing with the HDMI cable on the floor next to her, “If you wanna paint, roll out the brown paper okay? And find the overalls, Oh and we have cake, so I’ll call you a little later for that okay.” She nods and gets up to hug him, whispering a thank you baba as she squeezes him against her chest.

“Might paint the mugs and yes _Baba_ , love you, now goooo.” She says pointing towards the stand where the mugs they made last week in the meantime. Zayn chuckles “Yes _yes_ I’m going.” 

In the end had decided to bring them home, wrapping them carefully in bubble wrap to make sure he wouldn’t cause unnecessary tears. He looks over at Luna, who’s got colour pencils at hand drawing in something Laila had probably sketched.  
  


“We’re gonna be next door.” He says as he rewinds the movie to start where they’re singing Troy and Gabriella first sing at the ski resort. When it finally pops up on the wall. Zayn stands.

“Thank youuuu.” Both girls say as Zayn leaves them to it.

“This way.” He says as he makes his way back to him, closing the door to let them get on with it.

“She literally adores you.” Liam exclaims, chuckling to himself cheerfully. “I mean, all I can say is _think_ about what you’re getting yourself into.” Zayn jokes, poking at Liam’s cheek. “What you mean love like _that,_ so whole and happy? so full? Count me _in_.”

“You can’t really believe Luna doesn’t love you just as much.” Zayn says seriously now. Unlocking the top latch at the top of the door something he installed when he realised Laila was dropping in there to steal paint and opening the door. He can see Liam looking around further down the corridor, to what is obviously his room.

He redirects him to where they’re going and then, before them stands the biggest room in the house, over the garden in the back, a balcony leading out over it, big sliding doors that double up as massive windows when it’s too cold to open anywhere.

“No.” Liam speaks in a hush manner now, almost not really sure how to carry on the conversation. Zayn shuts the door behind them, and Liam instantly makes his way to the papered floor.

“But, since we lost her mum, Luna’s become a serious, quiet type. She’s um, not as expressive with her words, I don’t know, I worry sometimes she’s not happy with just me.”

“Li, she’s _six,_ it’s _okay_ if she doesn’t know how to fully tell you things yet. How long have you been worrying about this?”

Liam thinks for a moment, letting Zayn come sit across from him in the mean while. “Um, I think since she started to talk properly if I wanna be completely honest.”

“I can bet you my life and then some that, that, that little girl adores the shit out of you, but doesn’t wanna be all over it because something as quick can happen to _you_ as it did to Melia and I bet you, she still remembers her, even if they say if the child is young they won’t. And _Li…_ her name literally means _moon_ , it comes from the word _m_ _ō_ _na_ , in Old English it means measured, quantified, means she’s a bit dreamy, creative as fuck, sensitive to the core, and above all _independent_.”

“How can you know all that from just her name?”

“Because from the little bits and bobs I’ve seen, she’s a lot like you, you just can’t see it because you’re too busy trying to get her to be like her _mum_.”

“I hate how much you’re right.”

“Hey no,” He says tapping on Liam’s temple, “Stop thinking too much. If Laila can teach her one thing, it’s this, how to love fully and whole. I also think not sending Laila to regular school has a lot to do with it to be honest. I have the opposite problem, she’s better at going away to see her mum now, but in the beginning, it was hard, she’s had too many meltdowns at Kings Cross to push me enough to drive her up, and I stay with her until she’s just about falling asleep to stop any major hiccup. The funny thing is, she’s fine the next day. I still think she’s a bit _too_ attached, but we’re working on it.”

“Now, come on, because you don’t _just_ come to me for deep talks.” Zayn continues, pressing a small kiss to Liam’s forehead. “Got something you might like today.”

And what’s that?” Liam says perking up a little now. “We’re drawing the girls.” And then he’s smiling once more, and _Zayn think there is a capacity to fall in love here and that somehow just makes everything that’s happened in his past okay._

*

“CAKE!” The girls are shouting simultaneously as they come running down the stairs. It’s just gone half six and he and Liam had been working on their portraits for just over three hours before they realised that both girls probably need food.

“Ahh, ahh, dinner first.” He says just he points to Laila to go directly to the mudroom to wash off their hands before taking their seats at the table. “Then cake.” Zayn smiles as they make their way in there. He’s pleased with himself when Laila’s momentarily sullen face fades.

“Do you need help Baba?” She asks when she comes out to find a clean washcloth, just like always.”

“No _jaan_ , Mr Liam helped today.”

“Well, tell _Mr Liam_ I say thank you.” She intonates happily as both girls go back to talking about the movie as the walk to the table.

Laila wanted it to watch badly for a bit, but he’s only just learning that it was actually Luna’s idea all along.

 _Sneaky that, and possibly dangerous, but he’s kinda giddy they seem attached at the hip_.

“You, really have a way with her, you do.” Liam’s saying, standing behind him at the counter. Holding onto his hips for a moment before letting go.

“Stop it!” He whispers, “Now grab the serving bowls, I’ll get the roti… are you sure Luna will eat curry?”

“I don’t.” Liam replies, his lips close to his ear, but what’s the fun in asking her, when I’ll know the moment you put it on the table.”

Zayn laughs, “It’s mild.” He reassures, “Laila will moan a bit cause she adores the hot ones, but I think it’s a good introduction for Luna.”

“And me, I can’t say I’d order curry for takeaway, more of a Chinese guy.” Liam says, walking around the island to starting to take the plates over to the dining table where the girls are still jabbering away.

Quietly he can hear Luna asking Laila why they aren’t bringing out cutlery and Laila reassuring her that she’ll show her how to eat and not to worry.

He’s gotta be honest, it makes his heart swell.

“You know, they say that when girl can’t make a perfect roti.” Zayn starts when Liam comes back to him as he’s waiting to get the chapatis off the tawa, “no one will marry her, I just think it’s funny.”

Liam doesn’t answer immediately, taking one from the pile at the side and jokingly inspects it. Twisting it around in front of his face to look at it properly.

“Well,” He starts, barely keeping himself from laughing, “If this is anything to go by, I deem you marriage material.” It’s only then that he bursts out laughing.

“Well, you’re the _first_ that thinks that.” Then he’s laughing himself as he flicks the last one onto the waiting plate.

“It’s all in the wrist, you see.” He laughs, exaggerating the movement further.

Liam is wheezing so much that he’s now holding himself up on the kitchen island like he can’t believe himself how he’s just been acting.

In the few seconds, Zayn dishes up the final curry onto the large serving bowl and walks up to Liam to hand it to him, dropping a kiss on his lips in the process.

 _He can feel eyes on him,_ Laila’s but he doesn’t care at this point. He would have had to tell her soon anyway.

“Let’s eat.” He whispers into Liam’s lips, “Before both girls realise, I just kissed you.”

Liam’s face twists towards them smiling, “You think they’ll be alright?”

“I think it’s been three weeks and would have wanted to wait till it was at least six, but I definitely think it’s _alright_.” Zayn smiles, and Liam presses another kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Bring that.” Zayn instructs as he grabs the serving spoons from the side and the naans.

“Leli, it’s _Korma_.” He tells her when he catches her staring at the saffron coloured bowl Liam’s holding. He watches as her eyebrows rise into her hairline almost, he wants to say, like she’s _appalled_ that he picked to make the mildest curry in existence but then Zayn raises his own in warning and moves his head to signal that this isn’t about her likes.

“Lulu,” She says turning to her, “You’re gonna love this one.” She speaks as Luna gets lost at the bright mess on her plate, snapping her head to look back at Zayn so flash him a bright fake smile, obviously still unhappy with the arrangement.

Devilish that one. Zayn thinks.

Zayn waits for Liam to sit before grabbing the bowl to serve him. He hears a soft, “Will you be okay darling?” As Zayn moves away from him, Liam leans forward to pass her a roti.

Luna nods and smiles, gesturing with her finger and saying, “Laila said your grab things like a crab with your fingers like this.” She laughs doing the actions as she says it.

Instantly, Laila jumps in to joint her, and then both girls are sat their snapping their first three fingers together giggling some more.

Zayn looks at Liam, they are now both sitting at opposite sides of the table and smile at each other as they witness the scene together.

He’s also quite sure, Liam’s listened in to copy what Laila is doing too.

_White people thinking they should use cutlery to eat curry will always be funny to him._

Zayn shakes his head out of his thoughts to enjoy the moment they have right now. He smiles when he realises Liam’s quite good at eating with his fingers.

A little later, when it’s nearly time for him to take Laila up to see her mum he finally calls them for cake.

“Laila sweet,” He says his index finger coming up to indicate to come over from the tablet they were using on a colouring app.

“Cake!” He smiles as she runs up to him, Luna following quickly behind her.

Zayn ushers them onto the kitchen as he serves them half a slice of the famous rose, lemon, and raspberry cake.

He slices the other for him and Liam just as he’s messing about with the coffee machine, trying to make hot chocolate.

“Leli,” He says, “Pick the choco that you want _jaan,_ and show Mr Liam how to use it please.” He looks at Liam, who in return is giving him _that_ look, the look that says, _you’re putting a six-year-old in charge of this, REALLY_ and Zayn can’t help but laugh happily.

“Luna, you too hun.” He says as she smiles up at him sweetly.

Once they’re sat down, he realises that Liam slips in onto the stool next to him, the girls opposite. Liam places his hand on his upper thigh and Zayn’s just about stopped breathing.

“Checked that it’s halal and all before I agreed to bring things over.” Liam says, obviously proud of himself.

“You’re learning fast.”

Liam doesn’t reply at first but then he moves closer to Zayn, his thigh coming over to rest of Zayn’s before saying. “So, _jaan_.” He speaks into his ear as Zayn cuts up his slice of cake into a smaller bite. He stops breathing for a moment because his body reacts to the way the word slides off Liam’s tongue.

He turns his cheek into Liam’s mouth and drops his head so that Liam’s now breathing directly into his ear.

“Means _my life._ ” He whispers. “Term of endearment in Urdu and it should be illegal coming out of your mouth.” He’s trying hard, to keep himself together, because who would have thought, he’d react to that word so strongly when it’s coming out of the right mouth.

“That sounds ridiculously more scandalous when you speak in _Urdu_.”

“ _Liam_ if you don’t shup up right now, I’m going to have a lot of issues letting you go home tonight.”

“Who said I was aiming on going home though.” And _then_ , _then_ Liam’s biting softly at his lobe like both their girls aren’t sat right in front of them.

Zayn laughs, “I have to take her up to MK still.”

“Might have told my mum I’m dropping Luna off to spend the night with her.”

Zayn’s left without an argument and agrees to impromptu road trip they’re about to embark on and honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He’s just not quite sure how he’s about to break the news to _Ahan._

“Fine.” Zayn answers. “But it’s gonna take a good few hours in the car.”

“We’ll just sleep at mine.”

Now he pulls away to look at him, unsure if Liam’s serious.

“For real?”

Liam nods and smiles, “Kensington, is definitely not down here. Much shorter from Milton Keynes too.”

“You live in fucking _Kensington_?!”

Liam snorts, and presses another kiss to his lips. “My dad left me his inheritance early alright.”

Zayn elects to ignore what Liam just said and turns away to speak to Laila.

“Laila hun,” He says turning his head to face her, finally diving into his cake.

“Can you call Ammi when you finish your cake, I need to talk to her.”

Zayn’s looking at her face, and all he can see is this smirk sitting gently over her features like she’s just observed all of what happened in the last few seconds.

He pulls his warning face again, but this time she bursts out laughing.

“Yes _Baba_.” She says after she’s done giggling her head off and jumps off the stool to go find his phone.

“That girl is way too switched on.” Liam says in his ear as he watched Luna happily finishing off her cake oblivious.

“Oh.” Zayn answers smiling, “Luna _knows_ , but far better at hiding it.”

“Ammi’s on the phone.” Laila says coming back into the room, task handled successfully.

Zayn in return gets off his stool to go out to the garden to speak to her. Laila doesn’t hand him the phone, just walks out after him.

From the corner of his vision, he sees Luna climbing into Liam’s lap looking like she’s about fall asleep.

It’s endearing to watch if he’s honest.

“Hey,” He speaks, the moment her face comes on the screen.

“I have some news.”

*

Later when he makes it back inside, Liam’s waiting eagerly to see the result of his meddling.

“She said okay, doesn’t seem too fussed, more worried about missing Laila’s bedtime.” He tells him smiling, “Where are the girls?”

“After they finished their hot chocolate Luna realised, she didn’t wanna go without her mug.”

“Did she like the curry?” He asks him, taking the moment of peace to cuddle up to Liam on the sofa. Feeling a kiss landing on his cheek.

“Said I should learn to make it actually.”

“Well, that’s a triumph. Mine was sending me daggers because I didn’t make Madras.”

Liam laughs and holds onto his hips more firmly now.

“Can get used to this.” He speaks into Zayn’s hair.

“Oh, I might have _already_.”

Liam laughs and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s soft and it’s like he’s taking the time to savour the moment.

It’s too early to be sure, but Zayn thinks, _this is what happiness looks like._

*

A little after, when Zayn’s with Laila packing up the last bits and bobs before they start to make their way to see Ahan she sits down on her bed and asks, “You like _him_ don’t you.” It’s more of a statement then a question.

It’s just gone half seven at night and Zayn has no idea how he’s been managing to raise this incredible little girl.

“Yes. I do.” Zayn says. He stops messing about with her homework sheets and kneels down to be by her. “My question is, is that okay with _you_?”

Her response is to hug him, and that’s basically the only answer Zayn needed.

“I love _you_ Baba and that means I like everything that makes you _happy_.” Laila slides into his lap as she says it.

She leaves him speechless, and the only way he knows how to answer her is by leaning in to kiss her hair.

“Let’s go then, before Luna falls asleep before we even leave.”

“They’re going with us?”

“Liam is. We’re dropping Luna with her nan.”

“Epic.” She says happily and Zayn laughs, because there’s that word again.

When Zayn stands, it’s to close up her luggage so that he can carry it down the stairs.

_This should be fun._

_*_

The drive is long, but relatively quiet. Zayn found out that Luna’s usual bedtime is around seven, which would explain why she passed out cold the moment Zayn pulled out of his drive.

Laila on the other hand tends to sleep around nine, so right up to the point where he hit the first set of services, she was watching Mamma – Mia on her tablet.

“She’s gone.” Liam declares, turning down the radio just a bit to talk. Zayn’s hand finds its way to Liam’s thigh, holding it there.

“You and your crazy ideas.” Zayn smiles. In the haze of the orange streetlight lights, he can see Liam’s face glow with happiness. “I mean,” Liam says after a bit, “It was _you_ or a date with Netflix, and we both know where I’d rather be.”

Zayn chuckles at that and Liam’s arm finds its way to the top of Zayn’s head rest. His fingers playing with Zayn’s roughly pulled up bun.

“Ahan okay?”

“Ahan spent the night at a cooking class with her boyfriend. Only difference between them and _us,_ it took them over a _year_ to get together and over _two_ for him to meet Laila, and then _we_ just kind of…” Zayn trails off because he isn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

“We just _kind of_ went and kissed in front of her three weeks in?”

Zayn giggles, enjoying the sensation of Liam’ playing with his hair. “Something like that. Wouldn’t change it though.”

“Never.” Liam whispers, the palm of his hand now coming down to squeeze at the back of his neck.

“I had read somewhere, that a person you’ve known a week can make you feel more then someone you’ve known ten years, and before I met you I kinda dismissed it, but then, _I met you.”_

And Zayn, _Zayn_ doesn’t quite know what to say to that. So all he does is squeeze at the top of Liam’s thigh and he hopes Liam knows he agrees.

“Nearly there now you know, hoping Amir won’t be a dick.”

“The boyfriend?”

“Uh, he’s what we call _traditiona_ l, so basically a parents wet dream but I’m not sure how he’s gonna take to the mere idea of us.”

“ _Us_ , huh.” Liam jokes fingers pressing at Zayn’s neck happily.

“Us. Dr Payne. How do you feel about that?”

“If you weren’t driving, I’d kiss you right now, that’s how I feel about an _us._ I know I agreed to wait, but damn Zee, you keep making that incredibly hard.”

  
Zayn chuckles, “I did warn you, might be okay around your birthday though.”

This makes Liam laugh, a full belly laugh, coming right out of him like he’s forgotten Laila’s asleep behind Zayn.

“Oi,” Zayn smiles, “Shush it.” Hand squeezing into his thigh again.

“How do you even know when my birthday is?” He says after he settles himself again. “Application form hun.” Zayn replies easily. “Gave it to me on a silver platter.”

Liam thinks for a moment, then says, “I have no idea when yours is.”

“Twelfth Jan.” He says, head turning, to see Liam’s face widen with surprise.

“You’re lying.” And then Zayn’s confused.

“How?”

“That’s Luna’s.”

“No way.”

“ _WAY, can show you my birth certificate and all.”_

“Can’t believe that.” Liam says as Zayn turns off the motorway to pull into Milton Keynes.

“Makes you really wonder about the invisible string theory.” Zayn grins, watching Liam’s face illuminate under the red light of the traffic stop.

“You mean, like that Taylor Swift song.” And this, this is what takes Zayn out, because of course, _of course._

“You like her?”

“No,” Liam corrects, “I have a six – year old, _she_ likes her.”

“Well, I like _her_ , no shame from my side, and yes, like her song. Kinda have come to believe that lately.”

“ _You_ make me believe that.”

“You’re cheesy.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m cute _all_ the time thanks.”

“I hate you cause it’s true.”

And then they laugh like schoolboys getting the cream.

“We’re a street away.” Zayn tells him, after a while of driving down winding side streets.

“What did you tell her about me?” Liam asks almost nervously now.

“That you’re having classes and that we’re sorta semi _dating_ and that I like you _a lot_ and for Amir to not make silly comments about this.”

“Is he really into his mean comments?”

“He’s only into making people feel _less_. I haven’t told them you’re a surgeon yet. Might keep that tucked in for a rainy day.” Zayn brakes and Liam’s eyes are shining in the dark light.

“Well, hey ho, he’s not gonna stop me from spending time with you just because he’s got a weird complex going on.”

“Oh, I’ve been dealing with him for the last four years, he’s all bark, no bite. He always thinks he’s the smartest person in the room because he’s got a law practice.”

“Ooohhh, one of those.”

“Yep, one of those… it’s the next house by the way.” Zayn’s informing him as he pulls up at the gates.

“Fancy.” Liam comments shaking his head.

“ _Lawyer_.” He reminds him.

“With a law practice,” Liam laughs sarcastically. “Would love to see what he’d get for a house in London.”

“Meh, she only moved in last year and I love her too much to tell her to get rid of him.”

“Mostly believe, _this,_ makes her family happy a lot huh?” Liam states as the black metal gates slide open so that Zayn can go up into the drive.

The detached house isn’t visible from the street, hidden between the trees and the fauna. The house is an impressive Georgian grade two listed house that sits on a five-acre estate that Ahan had completely fell in love with.

Zayn nearly runs over one of the peacocks that live on the grounds. Braking harshly, waking up Laila in the process as her seatbelt jolts her awake.

“Sorry meri – jaan.” He tells her looking through his middle mirror.

“Charles got in the way.”

“The peacock is called… Charles?” Liam’s laughs from the front seat, not able to hold himself back at that one. Zayn slaps his thigh slightly, hushing out a quick _not NOW_ laughing gently to himself.

*

The drop off was relatively easy. Laila was tired out from the day’s activities, so when the door opened, she was all ready to go to bed.

Zayn doesn’t mind not staying long this time. Before Liam, he’d be there way earlier then when he turned up the last two weeks, but Ahan is pretty chill when it comes to her visiting, as long as she gets Laila for the weekend, they’ve never had any issues.

Liam elects to stay in the car, because well, it kinda makes sense, and once he gets back to it, he’s playing Sims on his phone.

“Sims? _Really_?” He asks grinning. “I have a six-year-old man. Yes Sims!”

Once he waves Ahan off and he’s making his way down the drive, Liam softly asks him, “Is it _true_ … that you still love her?”

It makes Zayn ponder for a moment, because the implication of what he had said before is only entering his head.

Once he signals out the gate, he attempts a proper reply.

“I do… but it’s different _now_. I love her in a way that means I’ve accepted she’ll only just be the mother of my child. I mean, did you see all of _that?_ I have this tiny house on the wrong side of the river and I’ve gotta work nearly fifty hours a week to even afford half of the shit I have… and the only reason I have Laila with me and she’s not locked up in some posh boarding school is cause she’s deemed to be a mistake. So, _please_ don’t worry when I say stuff like that, please _don’t_. I’m quite aware of where my place is, that bloody house tells me so.”

Liam doesn’t reply for a moment, but then he’s placing a hand over Zayn’s on the joystick. “I didn’t mean it like that… But I’m quite sure…” He trails off and Zayn’s not entirely sure what Liam is trying to articulate, but then, a soft, “I’m a bit in love with the way you seem to be able to love so entirely and so deeply, even with all the pain you know.” Hits Zayn’s brain and he’s not sure how on earth to process that.

So, his response is to bite on his bottom lip contemplating the reason as to why both he and Liam can’t seem shut up for one moment with the deep conversations.

“I’ll always love Ahan, but it’s not going to take away the capacity to fall in love with someone else.”

“ _Me_ , you mean.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh, “ _Bold_ , Mr Payne.”

“I’d say turning up with a man you’ve known for three weeks, presented as your boyfriend on the door stop of a devout Muslim household is the _bold_ move _Mr Malik.”_ Liam counters _,_ laughing.

And Zayn’s body, has a visceral reaction of the way Liam just put that. Because it’s true, because these things are just _not done._ These things are hidden away and discussed about in a shameful manner, because in so many sections of society, _this_ type of love is wrong

“She asked about you, you know.” Zayn says quietly now.

“Who?”

“Laila… When I was making sure she had packed everything she’ll need.”

Liam upturns the palm of his hand to sit over the hand brake. Without thinking, Zayn’s fingers slip back right where they’re meant to go, squeezing in acknowledgement as Liam pulls both their hands closer to his body as he leans over to kiss his cheek, just above his beard.

“What did she say?” Liam’s asking into his ear, his teeth nibbling at his ear.

Zayn swallows, _hard_ , because he’s not used to his body reacting to something as small as this.

“Asked if I was happy … and keep onto you side.” He laughs hand coming up to push Liam’ face away from him face, “You’re a menace Dr Payne.” Zayn says pulling his head away from Liam’s antics.

“My side huh.”

  
“Do you like repeating anything I say?” Zayn says smiling at him as he comes to a roundabout.

“Maybe.” Liam takes out his phone from his coat pocket and watches his face light up from the stark white for a moment before Zayn turns his head back to look at the road.

“Gosh, it’s nearly ten.”

Zayn laughs, “Well, that’s what happens on Friday. Sometimes it makes me think of how much Salat I miss out to spend today navigating the freaking country.”

“ _Salat_?” Liam says softly, looking down to where their hands are still entwined. “I’m gonna have to learn, and you’re gonna have to teach me more than how to shade I think _Mr Malik_.”

“I’m still learning you know. Zayn answers, “I know a lot of things but I’m still playing catch up. I only took my Shahada just before Laila was born. Before then, _man_ I was wild.”

Liam’s laughing now and that makes Zayn’s heart happy, because he hates it when Liam exhibits behaviour that shrink who he is and his knowledge.

“I’m gonna just have to have google voice on speed dial because I mean it when I say, I wanna keep up with you.”

“There is a lot to learn.”

“And you’re acting like we don’t have time.” He says in a such a matter of fact manner that Zayn’s head spins for a moment.

And they do Zayn thinks, so much _time_ to learn, to explore to teach each other new things. Zayn can see an entire lifetime compressed into in few seconds and this time he decides that Taylor swift is right after all.

The moon is high in the sky, and Zayn’s driving down a majority empty motorway and all he can think about is the man sat right beside him, holding his hand, talking about a life he’s only ever prayed for.

“You gonna put _Folklore_ on then, or are we going to sit here listening to Radio 4 having a funk over sixties music.”

Liam laughs, letting Zayn drop their hands to fish out the aux extension Zayn has in the dash to keep his phone charged when he hooks up music from his phone directly into his car.

“Use my phone, car finds my Bluetooth easy,” He says, guiding Liam’s hand to the back pocket of his Levi’s as he lifts his bum off the seat for just a moment. He feels his thumb and index finger take out his phone.

“Um, this is a Samsung?”

Zayn chuckles, “And? You and your fancy iPhone.”

Liam gives him a look when he sticks out his hand so Zayn can press his thumb to unlock it and it makes Zayn laugh happily now. “You’ll find the Spotify app in the music folder. It’s green _Li_.”

Talking to him in the same manner he talks to Laila sometimes.

Liam navigates his phone for a moment, before music starts playing out.

“Happy?” Liam asks sticking his tongue out as he pops Zayn phone in its specified pocket in the dash, then coming in search of his hand again.

“Oh, if you _only knew_.” He says, lifting their fingers so that he now can kiss Liam’s hand. Smiling at each other as Liam pulls them back to rest over his thighs.

“Good, me too.” Comes the answer. “Wake me when we get into too into London, I’ll tell you where okay?”

For a moment Zayn’s glad he drives an automatic and he can keep his hand right where he wants it to be.

_And so it goes he thinks, as invisible string comes onto the playlist._

_He might have just found the other side to his red unbreakable ribbon and he’s sat resting his eyes on the seat right next to him._

*

When they get to Liam’s house, Zayn’s not really in the mood to do anything other than find a comfortable space to sleep on. Liam had told him where to park, instead of his own car. Zayn couldn’t stop laughing when he was shown to a designated parking spot.

Cause, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

It’s close to midnight by the time they arrive and if he were going home, he would still have had another good hour and a half to go.

So this is a bit of a God send.

“Follow me.” Liam speaks into the dark, as the walk along the giant railings of the park to his left. Then crossing the road when they come to the correct house.

Liam lets go of his hand for a moment so that he can shuffle about to find his keys, then he’s opening the black painted front door, like Zayn doesn’t need a moment.

And Zayn wants to scream because he lives in one of the houses on the square with a front garden lined neatly with wrought iron black railings. From the light left on, Zayn can see a purple climber covering most of the wall.

And then he realises that he’s still stood by the gate, almost debating as to whether this is a good idea, because he’s not entirely sure how he’s about to be allowed to enter _there_.

But then Liam is coming back, chuckling lightly to break Zayn out of his dreaming.

_The English major in him is singing._

Zayn think he’s about to take his hand but then, Liam’s hands are finding their way to his thighs and he’s being lifted across the black and white tiles and straight into the house, laughing hysterically as he’s telling Liam to let him go.

_He’s not quite a blushing bride on her wedding night just yet._

Liam’s response is to kiss him right there.

Then, the moment he pushes and locks the door shut, a light goes on in the hall, lighting up white marble floors, embossed gold fleur de lys wallpaper and a massive chandelier hanging from the unexpected double height ceiling, and honestly, Zayn’s stood there dumbfounded.

“This way.” Liam smiles at him, taking his hand to lead him up the double grand bifurcated stairs like he’s in a scene from Titanic and Zayn’s not sure how _the fuck_ he ended up here.

“So glad we took Lulu to mum’s.” He tells him as the walk past what looks like a ball room with a grand piano in the middle of it. Painted panels encompassing the walls like it’s been lifted straight out of a book.

Finally the come across another set of stairs leading up to Liam’s bedroom, Liam pushes him forward laughing out a _guest of honour_ as they make their up to the top. Zayn pushes it open and sees a white ribbed silk chaise lounge at the foot of a giant four poster bed.

The moment Liam clicks the door shut, he’s attacking his neck, pinning him to the door in a kind of frenzy he’s not seen from him before and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t reacting to the situation that’s taking place, but _no_ definitely not here for that tonight.

“Li… Li.” He’s saying between deep kisses. Liam’s fingers have found their way under Zayn’s coat and shirt and he’s not really sure how.

“ _Liam_!”

This is what makes him snap out from whatever daze he’s in.

_“Liam!”_

“I heard you the first time.” He whispers, “Wasn’t gonna do anything stupid, but I was waiting to do _that_.”

“I want that, _I want a lot of things with you_ , but we have _time_ so much _time_ to do all of that and then some and nothing I don’t ever think that everything has to be based around it, _now_ ,” Zayn whines, “Take me to bed.”

And Liam, oh _Liam,_ he hasn’t been got to be told anything twice, because he picks him right up off his feet and drops him right onto the Queen-sized black iron frame. Taking his time to undress Zayn slowly.

He doesn’t bother stopping him, because he’s already laid out things as a couple of times already and Zayn’s wise enough to trust Liam to not force things.

Once Zayn’s down to just his jeans and socks, Liam gets off him slowly to disappear somewhere. Bringing back a pair of shorts and hoodie with him, throwing them at him and laughing something about refusing to sleep in tight jeans again tonight.

Zayn takes the time to pull the lamp switch on, and for the first time he sees the red damask curtains lining Liam’s bed and sheets.

_Doctors and expensive tastes man._

“Good gosh, your _tattoos_.”

And of course, Zayn forgets sometimes that his body art can be quite distracting for someone that’s never seem a fully set up before.

A hand going up over his chest instinctively protectively.

“They’re mostly my drawings.” He confesses, as he runs his fingers over his collarbone and shoulder, and down his arm conscious about the amount of ink that covers his skin.

“ _Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”_ Liam almost moans out as his own fingers reaching out to run them over Zayn’s tummy.

He pulls Liam, by one of undone buttons on his coat, landing somewhere between his legs and chest and Liam falls into him happily. Staying like that until Zayn’s tells him they should probably prepare for bed.

“What is it with you and um, sexual contact, because I totally had to go in there to control myself right now?” Liam says a while later when walking back into the room, he’d gone into what Zayn thinks is a walk-in closet to pull out something he can lounge about in.

Zayn’s now on his belly scrolling through his phone when he remembers that he’s still gotta get up to change out of his jeans.

The question makes Zayn sit up to sit cross legged on the bed.

“Basically.” He says, reaching out to pull Liam onto the bed next to him. “My brain and my body don’t work together, so like I have to feel _loved_ , like really _loved_ before my brain lets it go any further then small intimate things. My body reacts but I’ve learnt my brain is stronger. It’s called _demi- sexual_. It’s on the ace scale because we don’t go out to look for any form of contact unless it comes to us, but everything will function properly under the right situation.”

“Never met anyone like that.”

“Meh, most people don’t really understand it, so it’s hard to explain it.”

“But, um,” Liam grins pushing Zayn back onto the duvet so he can get up over him to slide over Zayn’s crotch, to which Zayn obviously reacts too.

“It’s so weird to um _feel you_ – but know that your brain has no interest in what’s happening.” Liam’s saying as he rubs his bum over Zayn’s jeans.

Zayn laughs out “ _Get off, I thought you went in there to control yourself_.” Hands going up to pull Liam off him, who in rebellion plants a kiss over Zayn lips.

“I don’t like being inspected.”

“ _Love_.” Liam chuckles, “I’m just trying to wind you up, wouldn’t do anything without you being fully on board.”

Zayn’s hand comes up to hold Liam’s jaw in place, looking right into his eyes for a moment. Kissing him wholly.

“ _Man_ , I can’t tell you enough how much that means to me.”

Liam climbs up all over him again looking at him mischievously.

“Just so you know, you’re gonna have _so much_ to make up for once we go there.”

The tips of Zayn’s ears turn pink and his cheeks burn underneath his full beard.

“Oh, _I know_. Now get off _me.”_ Zayn smiles grabbing Liam by the arm to throw him onto the other side of his gigantic bed. Allowing Zayn finally easily get off the bed.

“At least cure my curiosity.” Liam says, holding himself up on his elbows as he watches Zayn take his pants off.

“Go on.”

“Good gosh, so much _ink_.” He says, when he realises it goes down most of Zayn’s back and sinks under his boxers into his thighs.

Zayn laughs, “It’s mostly to hide self-harm scars, so there we go.”

“Really?” Liam asks, obviously forgetting his other question for a moment.

“Yeah. It’s okay now, but you can still see marks at certain places … _now_ enough of the sad things, what was your question?”

“Oh.” Liam chuckles, there is a burning fire behind his eyes and Zayn clicks on to where he thinks this is going.

“Cut or?” looking at him like he wants to eat him whole.

Zayn’s brows furrow laughing, as he takes his time to slide up the pair of blue shorts Liam had thrown at him before and throw the black hoodie over his head, hands finding their way to his hair to fix the mess before deciding the best way to answer him.

“They’re a bit big.” Liam observes, “Sorry.”

“Nahh, they should be okay,” Zayn answers, taking the time to tie up his shorts tightly, “and to answer you, _cut and clean the majority of the time_.” He replies in a rush when he’s done, jumping over Liam on the bed. Who screams out laughing. The heavy quilt halfway on the floor, pillows already there.

“Any other question you’re pondering about?”

“How long did it take you with Ahan?” Liam replies. Moving a little so that he kicks himself on top, to sit in Zayn’s lap again.

Zayn grins, “You keep talking about her.”

“It’s just interesting _okay._ ” Liam defends the palms of his hands running over Zayn’s chest, looking intently at the tattoos.

“It took about a year to get to a place where both of us wanted _that_.”

“She isn’t like _you_ , is she?”

Zayn shakes his head, his hands coming up to slide up his glasses off his face and giving them to Liam to place them safely on the white nightstand.

“No.” He explains, “but she had to decide if she wanted to keep it _halal_ or not.”

“And she chose not too obviously.” Liam grins, his head coming down to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way though if I’m honest.”

“With _Melia_ , we didn’t actually want kids, you know.”

“Too young?”

Now it’s Liam’s turn to shake his head, climbing back over his hips. “She wanted to work as an A&E doctor, and that meant a lot of twenty- four hour shifts really, that meant we decided to me to do a second more specialist residency but then one night after not really seeing each other for about a week, well.”

“So Luna was a nice surprise?”

“More like she sat in the loo for four hours crying her eyes out.”

“That’s sad.” Zayn’s hand coming up to finds Liam’s. “and it’s even worst that you have the memory of it.” He continues.

Liam falls into him, head in the crook of Zayn’s neck settling there for a bit. The weight of Liam over his body is almost grounding but he doesn’t mind it one bit.

When he does fall off him, Liam’s telling him about the few days after he’d lost her and how he spent the entire time at the hospital clocking up hours just to make sure he didn’t have time to think about anything else.

Liam is laughing while retelling the story, but Zayn can feel the sadness behind his words, and he doesn’t really know what to say to something as dismal and losing some the love of your life so suddenly like that.

“About Ahan though, I still believe you’re a jackpot she just walked away from.”

This makes his snort. “You’re literally obsessed with talking about her.”

Liam lifts himself on the bed again, so that Zayn can see his face, not just the canopy of the bed they’re on.

“I’m not _obsessed_.” He accentuates, eyes sparkling. “I just can’t understand how she could just choose to go in a direction that isn’t creating a family with _you_.”

“I’m not gonna say oh it’s a Muslim thing or a Pakistani thing or a Bengali one because it’s _not_ , it’s just a culture thing.” Zayn starts, sitting up on the bed to get under the dismantled covers now and resting his back against the cushioned headboard.

“But most _proper_ Asian parents start saving up for the wedding of their child from the moment they are born. So when it comes to it twenty odd years later, they can just have a massive blowout and show if possible, the entire town how rich they are. It’s got everything to do with how you appear to the community. Now imagine, your daughter shows up _pregnant_ at your house two years after you sent her off to uni to find a doctor or a lawyer or someone with a good family and will have a good income, and she turns up _with_ this care home half caste kid who’s working at JD sports and living off food banks, and the kicker, with no family behind him to prop him up when it comes to a wedding.”  
  


“So she just… left?” Liam asks in a hushed manner, joining him under the sheets.

“No.” He answers shaking his head, “she let me move in with her and said that we had a year or just about to sort _me_ out, basically till she graduated from uni. So I went part time at JDs and started to work at the Gallery more. I was doing the class with a senior restorer just to help him when I met her. The next year they gave me a full-time job and not just calling me to help around when they needed an extra pair of hands. I literally went from barely making London’s living wage, to being able to rent a nice room in Zone 1 in about six months, it was – it was crazy, but it only happened because she took out me paying the bills for a few months out of the equation, wouldn’t have been able to support that without her.”

“So when did … leave? I guess.” He asks again, his arm coming up to pull him into his chest.”

“Laila was seven months. Came home one day to a note that said she had enrolled her at a nursey, which she paid for in advance for three months by the way, and she can be picked up at four. Her parents had come down for a day to clear out the flat and I had about a month to find somewhere new. They left me with a mattress and a baby cot and her little clothes of course, but nothing more.”

“That’s gross.”

“That’s what happens to someone that gets into something way over his head. You get used to people walking away.”

“Do you still think that? Even now?”

“Hmm.”

“Do you want to short or long version?”

“I’d like the truth?”

Zayn pushes away and sits up looking away from him.

“I’m _twenty-nine_ and the only long-term relationship I have is with _my daughter_ and that’s because she _can’t_ , at least for now _, walk out on me_. I was put in care when I was four months old. I was fostered out twice _but_ neither family wanted to adopt and then I ended up going to an approved school because I used to throw quite a lot of tantrums. There is nothing on earth that describes what it feels like to not ever… _ever_ feel like you deserve your place on this planet. That maybe it would be easier if I just didn’t exist in the first pla – “

“Ahh ahh,” Liam jumps in, a hand coming over Zayn’s face, to tilt his head to face him, instinctively he flicks his eyes shut. “I’m _sorry_ , but I will not let you finish that sentence… I know about _approved schools_ ; I know what’s done there and I know how they like to suck the souls right of young kids just because they can and I know because I’ve had to stitch boys up especially and send them back like I wasn’t seeing what I was… But never for a moment think it was ever okay to think something like that so casually.”

Zayn sighs pulls away, bringing up his knees to rest his chin on them, his hands going round to hold himself.

“I don’t really know what it feels like to be _significant_ for someone that’s not Laila.” He says softly. “And the only person I let in, the person that introduced me properly to Islam, the person that will be forever linked to me, just walked out like everything we had never really mattered, like … like - it didn’t matter if I was there or not. Like she didn’t cut contact for an entire year and then calling me up one day and asking if she could see her child. It’s why I stop you when you go on about the jackpot thing, because even after all that’s happened between her and me, I’m always going to love her to pieces even if it hurts me inside.” 

“You’re silly if you think you have no value just because a family decided to fuck you up even more.”

_It isn’t harsh or loud, but the words cut Zayn somewhere deep, exactly where it hurts._

“I don’t think she ever told them anything about me other than that I was alone.”

“And that’s sucky behaviour, she should have fought to keep loving the shit out of you, because you deserve that and _so much more_. So much Zayn, I just hope you’ll realise it soon… my _mum_ on the other hand, will literally adopt you herself.”

  
Zayn laughs, because it’s cute that Liam thinks that.

“I’m being serious.” Liam persists.

“What about your dad?”

“Dad passed when I was sixteen, but he came from money and I got my inheritance when I was twenty-one. Never really told anyone about it or had to use it before I moved to London.”

“Oh. Sorry. But then you go and laugh your head off about Amir’s place.”

“Wasn’t laughing but-” Liam smirks and lifts his fingers to twirl it round in the air, “Much prefer a townhouse like this, then somewhere full of pomp.”

“This isn’t just any townhouse though _Dr Payne._ This is a townhouse in fucking _Kensington,_ people would legit die for this, this is _pomp_ but on a different fucking level.”

“You talking about yourself or?”

Zayn slaps his chest lightly, _the gall._

_“_ Maybe.” He says smirking. And Liam laughs.

“Come here.”

“Come where?”

“Come here.” Liam exclaims softly poking at Zayn’s outer thigh with his index finger.

“You want me on top of you?” Zayn asks in almost disbelieve.

“I want you _here_.” Liam waves at the air above his chest, leaving him no option but to comply.

The moment both of Zayn’s knees hit the mattress on either side of Liam’s body, he asks, “Happy?”

Liam shakes his head and laughs.

“Sit.” He directs, hands coming up over Zayn’s hips pushing him down gently.

The moment Zayn does, Liam’s thighs come up so that Zayn can rest his back against them.

“What’s the point of this though.” He asks smiling as he only semi puts his weight on Liam’s pelvis.

“I just want to look at you for a moment and make sure to never _, ever_ take you for granted.”

His answer leaves Zayn’s cheeks to colour happily, tinged pink as he feels the heat of the words settling in his bones.

“I’m sorry I rushed you when we arrived. It’s so easy to act on impulse when it’s all you’ve known with men.” He says quieter now.

“Has there been, um, _a lot_ of… men?” Zayn asks shyly, because he’s thought about this topic before but pushed it down because well, you don’t casually ask someone about their past.

“Hook ups mainly, but yeah but I’ve only ever introduced one to Luna.”

Zayn swallows _hard,_ because he’s not really sure how he’s meant to react to news like that.

“It’s _okay_ isn’t it?” Liam asks softly, hands wringing around each other like he’s scared of what he’s gonna say next.

“Li.” He starts, Zayn’s own hands coming up to cover Liam’s, “I’m not here to tell you off about choices made with consent. What happened with him anyway? the one you brought home.”

“He wanted um _things,_ not sexual things or anything, but he wanted to move in after a few months and to renovate the house because he said he doesn’t wanna live somewhere straight out of the 18th century, I think that was my biggest issue cause I’d already been through hell to buy off separate apartments and renovate in a way it looks cohesive and he kinda shat on that.”

“It so isn’t though? you can’t freaking even tell it was separated off?”

Liam nods, “It took my contractors a year to sort out the botched separations. They managed to fit five flats in it and I just _, couldn’t_ take him seriously at the beginning because I mean what the fuck?” He says lifting them both up so that they’re sat a little straighter on the bed.

“And _then. THEN we_ had this massive fight about my _staff_. I have a housekeeper and her team that live downstairs in like an enclosed nanny annex and he wanted to do away with them. I’ve had them since we moved in here and with my rota and mum getting on, it was the best choice to keep everything as it deserves you know?”

“There were other things,” He continues, his eyes stained with sorrow, it’s a different type of involuntarily sadness then when he talks about Melia. 

“But you know when you’re blind and you think you’re in _love_ , you make excuses as why he never wanted to spend time with both me and Luna, or that he wanted more time then I could give him… it’s all a bit sad, because on paper, you’d think everything will move swimmingly.”

“Well, from the bits and pieces I’ve seen, I’d kill you if you changed a hair in this house.” Zayn laughs and the knot in his tummy loosens.

Liam doesn’t reply immediately but does grab his hands to pull him down for a kiss.

“ _Listen_ , don’t apologise for having impulses, my brain will figure it out eventually, plus, it’s nice to know you don’t just like what I can do with my hands.”

Liam snorts, his knees going digging into Zayn’s back a little. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.” Liam laughs out in the poshest accent he can muster Zayn bites down on his lower lip not knowing what to say in the meantime.

“I’m serious about you finding family here though, not traditional yes but now that I’ve got you, there is no way I’m about to let you go.”

Somewhere in the depths of his soul, there is a voice screaming telling him that _that’s a lie_ , but then Liam’s coming forward, tilting up his head to press fast hot kisses over his neck and collarbone fingers coming up to feel the necklace Zayn never takes off stopping to inspect it briefly, smiling when he sees Laila’s name etched into it.

And, _Zayn_ , Zayn can’t help but melt into him, dousing that fear in something he suspects is _love._

The love already blooming for this beautiful man, and his daughter both of which walked into his life so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

“I can see you thinking from here.” Liam’s saying pulling him necklace to bring him out of his thoughts.

“Just thinking about this passage in the _Qu’ran_ that talks about a soul never being given more than it can handle, and that good and bad deeds balance each other out in the end. _And all I can think about is this – you - right now – us – something tells me it’s God’s way of telling me I’ve finally fallen into the right pair of hands.”_

At the words, Liam’s face glows in the soft yellow light coming from the only light source, with this sort of illumination he’s not quite sure he’s got the ability to paint yet. But he _will_ because his heart is crooning with a purr of great fulfilment he’s never felt before and Zayn’s just gotta learn that good things do come to those who wait.

They don’t talk, but Zayn falls into Liam’s chest like he’s always existed there, and Liam shifts them over letting Zayn bring his head to rest on the pillow, legs entwined. His hands tucked between them whilst Liam’s is stretched over to cuddle him.

When Zayn’s on the verge of sleep, he hears a _good God I’m gonna love the shit out of you_ while dropping soft kisses along Zayn’s hairline assuming that he’d fallen asleep already.

Zayn in return smiles to himself and demands his brain to hold onto this moment and not let it slip out of consciousness just so much of his memories do.

_Goodnight love._ Liam speaks into the room the grip over his shoulder tightening.

_And that’s that._

*

“Hey Zee.” There are fingers running up his face, over his nose and cheeks. “Wake up darling.” Somewhere in the back of Zayn’s brain he’s aware that he should probably open his eyes, but he’s enjoying this a tad too much.

Plus he kinda loves that Liam’s fluent and fluid with endearments.

“I’m gonna pull you by your hair if you don’t wake.” He’s saying dropping kissing over his face.

“I not Luna.” He finally breaks, a smile coming on his face as he snuggles up in the warm duvet, “I use the same thing on Laila, who you kidding.” He laughs, still half asleep.

“There he is.” Liam giggles, feeling him climb over his pelvis to keep dropping kisses down Zayn’s face, along the line of his beard.

“You could have let me sleep in a little longer.” He moans, his hands finally coming up to rub out any last remnants of sleep.

Liam doesn’t reply, just gets off him to pick up something off the dresser. Zayn slits his eyes open just in time to watch him pop on a dark red dressing gown over his bare chest.

“Well, thought you’d appreciate breakfast – Mrs Bell made us some stuff, come on put that on.” Liam says throwing him a silk midnight blue gown.

“We’re getting company in a minute.” He tells Zayn, explaining as to why they’ve both gotta look like characters straight out of a Victorian novel.

Zayn smiles as he gets himself on his knees for a moment to pull it over himself. “Your housekeeper is called _Mrs Bell_?”

“And you should see them with her bells.”

“This house runs on _bells_?”

“Yes of course, who did you think I am.” Liam laughs coming back onto the bed to drop them both down on top of it pressing passionate kisses to Zayn’s lips between bouts of laughter.

Zayn giggles a, “Get off me _damn you_ , I’m awake now.” He says, just as he’s pulling Liam into a proper deeper kiss now.

“Oh, she’s gonna _love you_.”

“The funny thing is, I’ve studied these things, wrote essays about this shit, my thesis was about the classism perpetuated in these kinds of houses and you’re out here living it like it’s _still_ 1827.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

“I don’t know what, what’s his name wanted to change this, I’m already in love with it.”

“Keith.” Liam speaks, moving to the side and off the bed to push the dark wooden trolley over to the heavy damask curtains, pulling them back revealing a table and two dining chairs tucked into a bay window. It’s overlooking a balcony and a large back garden beyond. He realises that just staring openly at this point because all he could think about is _HOW DID HE END UP HERE._

But then he registers what Liam had just shared and he snorts. “Keith. You were dating a _KEITH!”_

And Liam laughs his head off.

“I’m sorry, but we gotta get some colour into you man.” Zayn smiles as he walks over to join Liam.

“She’ll bring coffee in a minute.” Liam tells him Zayn drags the chair from the head of the table to sit right next to him.

“And you know what they say right?”

“What?” Liam asks, knowing where Zayn’s about to take this.

“Once you find brown you won’t ever go back.”

Liam snorts into his tea and takes his The Sunday Times from the side of the trolley to skim the headlines it.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me.”

“What?”

  
“You’re literally living in an Edwardian wet dream and I’m _so mad_ that I only found you now.”

“Technically, I found you.” Liam says his head tilting up to look at Zayn, who’s smirking.

  
“Technically you’re the one who asked for private lessons.”

“Maybe, I just wanted to get into your pants.”

“Maybe so did _I_.”

They both laugh and Liam just about pulls him into his lap when there is a knock on the door.

It stops them in their tracks and Liam tells her to come in.

The first thing Zayn sees is her soft white hair pulled up into a neat bun, her plumpness softening her features and her black uniform that covers up most of her frame, but then as she comes closer, her cobalt eyes are looking at him like she’s trying to figure out where to start inspecting him.

Zayn lowers his eyes, conscious that she might think he’s a gold digger and let’s Liam deal with her, but then of course, he goes and, “This is _Zayn_ ,” He says, emphasising, “he’ll be joining us every weekend from now on, could you please tell Lucy to switch to _halal_ meat as of the next butcher visit.” And Zayn has to hold himself from falling off his chair laughing, because damn, straight for the kill.

Mrs Bell nods at Liam, then glances at him in acknowledgement. She then takes the trolley and wheels it out of the room. 

“Yes _sir,_ no _sir_ , that’s okay _sir_ , I’ll do that _sir.”_ He mimics just as she closes the door behind her, sticking his tongue out at Liam who goes bright red.

“She was looking at you like she didn’t know what to do.”

“No,” He corrects, “she was looking at me like I was a gold digger and I’m here to steal your net worth, _Mr Millionaire_.”

Liam laughs, slapping a soft hand to his thigh to get him to stop messing about “You don’t really believe that.”

“Li, hun, I’ve seen enough of that look to _know,_ but did you see her face when you said I’ll be here over the weekends?”

Liam smirks, “I just assumed you’d be fine with it?”

“You assumed right, but I don’t think I’ll ever be in her good books.”

“Oh please, I still think she’ll love you, let’s give her some time.”

Liam laughs and tilts his head forward asking for a kiss. Zayn complies happily. “True, forgot about that but I would have soon started complaining if I only saw you Friday and Saturday.” Liam speaks into his mouth, still smiling.

When he pulls back, he’s lifting up their cloche to remind him that they still actually have food to eat.

“Seeing you made food last night, kinda felt this makes up for it a tiny bit.”

Before them sit a setting of fresh food, brioche buns, orange juice, warm croissants, butter, and jam, lots, and lots of different jams in pretty little mason jars.

“I’m sorry, did I blink and wake up in _Paris_ or am I really dreaming and you’re not real.”

“Real as fuck baby.” Liam says pulling him forward, so he does end up in his lap being peppered with kisses.

_Zayn doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t deserve any of this, because if he does, he’ll ruin it, and he definitely doesn’t want to do to that._

“I gave them the day off from now.” Liam speaks into his ear, close to where Zayn is resting his head. “Thought we’d appreciate the house.”

“What about Luna?” He asks.

“Mum is fine to have her till when I’ll drop you off at the Gallery.”

“You wanna stay with me that long?”

“Haven’t got anything better to do, don’t think too much Zee.”

“I feel like you’re okay with giving me your entire weekends and that’s not fair, cause I’m taking all your rest days.”

Liam presses a kiss to his forehead. “They’re called rest days for a reason.”

“We’ve gotta keep Luna later on.” He says into Liam’s lips, “Can’t keep carting her off to your mother.”

“Later. After I get to make love to you.”

And Zayn inhales sharply because he didn’t expect Liam to put it in quite a flowery manner.

“Are you crazy enough to let me fall in love with you?”

Liam laughs, “The real question is, are _you?”_

*

Later, after he’s been given the grand tour of the entire house and he’s helped to feed Liam’s giant Great Dane puppy, Watson. _Laila_ calls him to ask if she could come home earlier and by earlier, she means – _now._

He wonders what could have happened for her to ask that, because in the four or so years she’s been visiting, she’s only asked _once_ and that was because she wanted to go watch a recital of one of her closest dance friends.

When Ahan gets on the phone he puts her on speakerphone so that Liam can listen, she’s a bit of a mess when she starts telling him about a massive fight she’d just gotten into with Amir about _Liam_.

Telling him plainly that she isn’t here to police what makes him _happy_ , so she told Amir to _fuck off_. Zayn tells her that he’ll have to come up _now_ in order to make it back in time for his class, but she ends up bursting into tears at the idea of messing up his day like that.

It’s just gone twelve and they’re sitting in one of the reception rooms cuddling on the blankets on the floor because the puppy had taken up most of the sofa space, before this they were watching White Collar and laughing at old pictures on their phones when the call come though.

_But then, drama happens, as per._

Liam gets up, rummaging through a pile of papers on the table to find a pen, writing,

_MY MUM_ in neat large handwriting on an old piece of newspaper, just enough to get the message across as he sits on the on the light blue blanket, next to Zayn again.

“Ahan!” He tells her, because she’s still crying, “ _Mahjabeen_ stop _panicking_ , Liam’s mum can come up to pick her up.”

“You love him… _don’t you_.” She says after about a minute of silence. Her accent harsh, her voice soft. It’s a _statement_ and a part of him wonders how she came to that conclusion.

_Probably from Laila._

Liam breaths in sharply and it makes Zayn snap his head to look at him, before reaching out his fingers to hold his jaw, bringing him close enough for Liam to fall right into the crook of Zayn’s neck.

“ _I do.”_ And he’s quite sure Liam can feel his heart beating right out of his chest.

“Then, I trust you enough to let his mum pick her up.” Her voice is uncertain now, and he can tell she’s about to completely melt down again, so he says, the one thing he knows will always be _true._

“ _Mahjabeen mein ga hamesha mohabbat aap.” I’ll always love you._

“Me too, _Meri – jaan_.” And Liam perks up at that because he knows what half of it means. There is this slight confusion in his eyes, which Zayn immediately remedies by silently dropping a kiss on his lips.

“I’ll text you when his Ammi leaves London okay?”

“I’ll be at _Baji’s_?” She says now, her voice steadier.

“Yeah okay, I’ll tell him, and hey, _thank you_.”

“Nothing to thank me for _Zed_ , he doesn’t get to make decisions for you… or me for that matter. Plus, I think Laila’s a little bit in love with him already, so why the _HECK_ would I want to get in the middle of this, when it’s the first person you’ve brought home in six years. I have to go, before he comes back from his parents, I think he went off there to slag you off – but I don’t, particularly care anymore. _You_ and Laila will always come _first_. I’ll… I’ll run her a bath and make her some food in the meantime, so his mum wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Tell her I say thank you.”

Then the line goes dead, and Zayn’s not really sure how to handle the conversation that obviously is about to come.

But then Liam doesn’t start one, grabs his own phone from the side and calls his mum. The lady doesn’t even hesitate for a minute, asks if she’s okay to ride up with Luna and for the address she needs to input onto google maps.

Zayn takes the pen and writes down the address of Ahan’s eldest sister which Liam does read out but then says he’ll send a picture of it.

When he cuts the line, Liam’s opening his arms, to which Zayn happily falls into.

_“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with drama already.”_

“No, _jaan_.” Liam speaks into his hair and Zayn stiffens up for a moment not expecting that word to fall off Liam’s tongue.

“And for the record, _I’m falling in love with you too_.” Tilting Zayn’s head up to kiss him.

For a moment he sits there blind sighted by the unexpected revelations of today and for just now, what was about to turn into a very vexing afternoon, will remain the carefree one it was first promised to be.

And what a difference having two sets of hands handling a situation then the bloody palaver the situation would have been if Liam hadn’t been there to catch him. 

*

An hour later he’s in the ensuite closest to Liam’s bedroom, performing Wudu, he’s sitting on the edge of the marbled bath, when he sees Liam’s figure appearing in the frame of the door.

They don’t speak, not until Zayn’s finished his recitations.

“Is it okay to watch?” Liam asks, holding the prayer mat and a copy of the Qur’an he asked Liam to fetch for him. Zayn likes to keep a copy in the car so that Laila can recite verses on their Friday trips up north.

_Washed my hands_ he tells him as he places them on the vanity in the walk-in closet just outside the door.

Zayn smiles at him, still not fully believing this beautiful man is willing to listen and learn without asking for something in return. 

“You’ve basically done that since we met.”

“True.” Liam smiles, coming up to him, walking up behind him placing his neck over Zayn’s shoulder, hands on his hips, eyes in the mirror staring at their form.

“How do you feel about meeting you for dinner with both girls after class.” He whispers in his ear.

Zayn stares back and smiles, “Don’t you wanna rest?”

“There is time.”

“Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

Liam plants a kiss to his cheek and says, “Definitely sure.”

And that’s that.

*

“Zee –” He hears as Liam’s coming up the stairs and into the library, where Zayn’s decided it’s his favourite room in the house.

“Mum’s just texted, they’re on their way back.”

“Ooohhh, she’s a literal angel.” He says, looking up to watch Liam saunter across the large space to place two mugs on the long white oak table in the middle of the room.

He loves the way Liam’s uses double height ceilings to add light to rooms. Loves how midnight blue velvet curtains shimmer down the entire double story window overlooking the back garden. Loves the pale silver of the wallpaper and the juxtaposition of the black lighting fixtures that run across the entire table like he’s sat in a reading room tucked away in some museum. Loves that there is a round cupola ceiling and books tucked in every corner of the space.

Adores that there is a set of corkscrew stairs leading up to more books and a window seat placed within the confines of a huge round window that looks into an indoor patio Liam grows herbs in.

_Yeah. Zayn’s found his favourite place in this house._

“What you doing?” He says as he arrives next to him.

“Drawing.” Zayn replies a bit lost. “You know you could just make me tea; you don’t have to cater the coffee.”

“I don’t mind.” He answers, “Lemme see … is that me?”

“Maybe.” Zayn says absentmindedly, refusing to hand over the paper just yet.

“Lemme seeee.” Liam whines, pinching the paper from just under his pencil.

“This is my breakfast table – how the fuck did you make this look so pretty.”

Zayn laughs and takes the sheet of paper back. “You have no idea how dapper you looked in your dressing gown this morning.”

“Can say the same thing about you.”

“Please.” Zayn bemoans.

“Never realised it looked so pretty.”

“I think you mean, you never realised you sitting there looked so pretty.”

Liam scoffs. “ _Baby_ stop that.”

And yup, Zayn’s tummy flips.

“You keep saying that does wonders for my brain.”

Liam laughs now, a hand going into his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as he leans further onto the table, knees tucked on the bench like a school kid overlooking an experiment.

“Never seen someone work as fast as you, and I thought Jack Dawson was fast.”

Now it’s Zayn’s time to start laughing, because “Did you really just casually reference _Titanic_?”

  
“Hey! – for your information, I started sketching because of him.”

“I thought you started because you loved drawing organs.”

  
“That too – but I love the way every sketch had a story behind it. Makes people seem more – loved.”

And Zayn nods, because he isn’t wrong. When he draws people, it almost always stems for wanting to see the beautiful hidden human sides to them.

“Oh, that reminds me, I have yesterday’s sketch of Luna in the car, remind me to leave with you.”

“Can’t believe you drew her with her boater hat and plaits. It’s adorable.”

“Can say the same thing about you did of Laila, with her dungarees giving off serious Mamma Mia vibes.”

Liam chuckles, “And to then find out it’s her favourite movie.”

Zayn drops his pencil the moment he’s finished, “One of them, don’t get me started about Moana.”

Liam rolls his eyes, “You too?”

He nods and they both laugh; the Liam takes the paper again and lifts it up into the light.

“Your depth of perception is fucking incredible.” Liam states, leaning in further to drop a kiss on Zayn’s lips.

“Meh, please this is what I pull when you’re gone, and I’m bored.” Zayn speaks, shrugging it off.

Liam laughs, “It was _five minutes!”_ intonating voice going high with laugher.

Zayn smiles, “Bored.”

“Oh,” Zayn says more seriously now, “I’ll leave the car here, so that we can go pick up yours after we get back from central.”

“Oh, cool, a part of me hates for signing on for more than one midnight shifts for the next few months.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m meant to have till Monday am, but seeing we’re desperately short on staff. Having surgeon on shift helps any day of the week. That was three weeks ago, I didn’t mind it _then_ , but now I’m kicking myself silly.”

“Wouldn’t really matter though for the weekdays, I mean. I split the days between restorations and commissions and doing Laila’s online program, so there isn’t much time to flunk out of things.”

“Would you ever consider normal school?”

“In all honesty – it might help her become less attached to me but it’s so ingrained in me now it would be hard to give it up.”

Liam smiles and sits down on the bench properly. “I wouldn’t have a clue where to start if I’m honest.”

“To be fair, I can only keep up with her cause she’s in primary, but we do about four hours of solid work a day, then she goes to one of her classes. We switched her dance class so I can see you Friday.”

Liam chuckles. “No shit.”

And Zayn laughs, hands finding their way to his hair to take out the plait before he showers.

“I’m not kidding. We do Violin classes on Monday, we now have ballet and tap on Tuesday, Qu’ran classes on Wednesday and we both have Urdu on Thursday and now we see you on Friday.”

“Shit man and I thought I was wrong for wanting Luna to do piano outside of the school’s ballet classes.”

“The school has its _own_ ballet classes?”

Liam nods, “She’s at The Hampshire school just up the road, they have everything, even things like extra French or equestrian classes. Kinda wanna move her but it’s fine for right now.”

“Must cost you an arm.”

“About six grand per term.” Liam says handing him his coffee, fingers around fancy gold mugs, like it’s Liam’s favourite colour.

“Fuck me.”

And Liam laughs his head off.

“Liam, I paid £200 when she started KS1 and that’s been it for the school fees.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You put a lot of work into it though.”

“I follow a program the majority of the time, but she learns quickly so we skip things.”

“I find that so amazing.”

“Plus, I barely make 3k a month.” He continues, downing the remainder of what was left of his of his lukewarm drink, “Now enough money things please.” Grabbing hold of the pencil and handing it to Liam.

“I need you to direct me to a shower and your closet, after that I want you to draw something, anything, you got that?”

“Am I getting lessons outside of specified hour now too?” Liam asks smiling happily, taking the pencil, and reaching out for another piece of paper. “Spoiling me much?”

Zayn laughs, “We can talk adult dad things another time, but drawing? There is never enough time for drawing.”

“You’re happy, though aren’t you?” Liam speaks now, reaching out to grab Zayn’s hand, slipping his fingers in Zayn’s.

“Happy in what way?”

“Like generally.” He clarifies, fingers now pushing up the sleeve of Zayn’s hoodie to run his fingers over both his ink and scars. Zayn inhales sharply at the question.

“Generally, my head is better than where it was when these happened.”

He starts, running his own fingers over where Liam’s are with his right hand. “But let’s just say, I would have had a totally different reaction if you weren’t here to help me today.” He continues.

“I _worry_ about things. I worry about making a wrong choice, I worry about any situation that might mean Laila is taken away from me. I worry about if I do enough over hours to pay all the bills that I have. _Normal things_. Although, I have worried about you potentially realising I’m not enough for _you_.” He finishes, voice soft, afraid of the response.

“You really think that?”

“I didn’t, but then I saw this house and how you live, and it just brought a lot of things home.”

Liam doesn’t reply, but moves closer to where Zayn is sitting, taking his chin to cup it in his hand as he slowly makes him turn to face him.

“Look at me.” Liam’s asking. “ _Zayn, look at me.”_ It takes him a moment for him to work up the courage to flick open his eyes.

“Listen.” Liam’s whispering. “I was _given_ most of this. I didn’t dig my heels and work myself up – that’s _you._ That’s you putting in the long hours and day care simultaneously. That’s you running around London like a mad man to work at different places voluntarily just to better your chances at getting a proper job. You know what I was doing when I turned nineteen? _Partying in Bora Bora._ Not working retail in the middle of bloody Oxford Street. Do you know how shitty that makes me feel _now_ , now that I’ve I see the dead and they dying every single day. _I don’t need to work_ but I have this need too because if I didn’t, I’d forget how to be _humble._ And how can I teach compassion and empathy if I don’t know what either looks like.”

He stops to breathe for a moment, caressing Zayn’s face with the pads of his thumb.

“I’ve had this feeling… in the pit of my stomach, since I met you. I just want to share and learn to enjoy everything that I’ve been blessed with, with someone that’s never complained about the hand he’s been dealt. Before I met you, I was going through the motions, going to work, coming home, spend time with Luna, rinse, and repeat. It’s why I signed up for the class, because _man_ I needed to get out of the house to do something I enjoy.”

“ _I’ve always believed that we meet people for a reason.”_

“Zee, nothing happens by _chance_. _Nothing._ And getting a chance to love you, and spoil you and _take care of you._ It’s an _honour_ , because what are the _chances._ Of you, and this and us. What are the chances of falling into someone’s life so easily like you’ve always fit there. What are the chances of making three weeks feel like three years. You tell me, because my head can’t even begin to make sense of it.”

Now Zayn’s own hands are coming to hold onto Liam’s wrist, putting a bit of pressure on them.

“I’ve been worried about coming off as a little bit desperate.”

“How … exactly.”

“I don’t know but coming over to spend the night can come off as _that.”_

Liam shakes his head.

“I don’t think I know how to let someone love me properly.”

“What about Ahan?”

But this time Zayn’s the one shaking his head. “I don’t think she herself knows if she ever actually loved me, I don’t want you to feel inclined to stay just because you think my baggage is too sad.”

“You are rapidly turning into someone I can’t see my life without. Sometimes it takes a year to know you have the capacity to love someone and sometimes you can just tell in _three weeks.”_

This time Zayn nods, making direct eye contact with Liam for the first time since it got a bit emotional.

“You’ve achieved incredible things, When I say incredible, _I mean it._ Now it’s my turn to make good deeds.”

Zayn smiles, “You’re learning.”

“I’m listening to what isn’t being said.” Liam says, closing the gap between them, their lips falling into a soft kiss. Enjoying the moment and each other.

“Think I know what I’m gonna draw whilst you’re showering.”

“Really.” He beams, as Liam takes his hand to lead them back up to the bedroom.

When they get there, the sheets are still a mess and soft afternoon light is beaming through the curtains.

When Liam lays him down on the bed, Zayn doesn’t protest, doesn’t say anything either when Liam takes off his hoodie. Soft kisses are being pressed into his neck, then down to his collarbone. When Liam’s mouth finds its way to his nipples, Zayn shudders, not expecting the sensation.

_“Have you ever been made love too?”_ Liam’s coming up to ask him, obviously trying desperately to control himself.

Zayn shakes his head, because he understands perfectly what Liam’s meaning to say.

“ _One day soon,_ that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He says, thighs finding Zayn’s pelvis, mouth the scars on the inside of his upper arms. Breaths heavy, important words spoken with kisses.

And for a moment, Zayn want thanks God for the blessings his life has been enriched with because a love like this? That’s’ not something that just walks into your life on a soft spring afternoon asking for extra hours.

No, a love like this is prayed for. It comes from a yearning to be understood. From a longing to feel loved.

And _oh,_ Zayn’s falling. Falling for a man that under normal circumstances wouldn’t traverse in his world. Wouldn’t _understand_ it either.

_But as he lays here, on the messy bed of this man, in a multi-million-pound house a stone throw away from Buckingham Palace he wonders that maybe, just maybe good things where meant to find him, they just needed to take their time._

*

Later, when he’s sat in the library washed and dressed, he takes the time to braid and pin his hair. It’s just gone past his navel, a bit of a mess when it isn’t worked on, if he’s honest, one of Zayn’s favourite features.

From behind him, he hears Liam chattering to his mother on the phone. They’re about fifteen minutes away, and it just gives Zayn enough time to see Laila before he has to jump on the tube.

“How long have you been growing it?” Liam asks, dropping a kiss on the top of his head, sitting down on the bench next to him.

“Haven’t touched it since I was twenty-four. Sometimes I cut about an inch but would take a lot to get me to cut it to be honest.”

“I would die if you cut it.” Liam says, bring a hand to caress the still unbraided length.

Zayn laughs. “Ahan used to say the same thing.”

“Really.”

“Hmm, when we met her, I had only really just decided on doing it. Made her shave it off in the tub to start from scratch. When it came down to like here – “Zayn says gesturing shoulder length with his free hand, “She hated it every time I brought up cutting it off.”

“It suits you, that’s why.”

“It can be a bit of a pain to keep clean and properly oiled, but I do love the way it looks most of the time.”

“Let me.” Liam says now, making Zayn swivel on the bench so that he can Dutch braid the rest of it himself.

“You can braid?”

“I can even thread eyebrows.” Liam laughs, obviously liking the idea of shocking Zayn.

“Get out of here.”

“I’m not kidding! Melia taught me.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Eh, it helps now with Luna.”

“Laila absolutely loves her braids.”

“Same, just wish it would grow a little longer. It seems to take forever for her to grow a few inches.”

“Luna’s tiny though, she’ll grow, to be fair, Laila’s only just had a bit of a growth spurt.”

“I know I told you before, but Laila is absolutely gorgeous.”

“She mostly takes after her mum.” Zayn says now, because he doesn’t really know how to reply to that again.

“There is something in the contrast between her eyes and her skin colour.”

Zayn chuckles, handing Liam the bauble to tie up his braid. “We weren’t expecting the green eyes, cause neither of us have them, saying that, can we take a moment to appreciate Luna’s auburn for a moment.”

“Aha, that comes from Melia’s mum, she’s getting to an age where she hates it with passion, but I love it.”

Zayn turns back round to find his pins, tucks Liam’s braid neatly and pins it so it stays away from his face during his class.

It’s the second Sunday he’s not already at the gallery and having time to get ready and not rush has been super nice if he’s totally honest.

Then the doorbell rings and Liam gets up to go answer it. Before he leaves, he hands him a folded-up sheet of paper smirking his way to the door, and Zayn knows exactly what that means.

When he unfolds it, he finds a sketch of himself on Liam’s massive bed, shirtless and resting on his elbows. Hair messy and his glasses off. His legs are hanging off the bed and he’s only lit up by the light of the lampshade.

And Zayn decides that it’s time to stop questioning everything Liam does and says and let’s himself fall fully into this relationship and sharing a life with this man.

He hears Laila’s voice coming up the stairs shouting _Baba_ and Zayn quickly tucks the sketch into the pocket of his jeans. The moment Laila makes it through the door, she starts running and ends up right on his lap as usual.

“I don’t want to go back _Baba_. I don’t, I don’t. He’s so mean _, so mean_. He was calling you and Ammi all kinds of names and I had to go hide in the treehouse because I didn’t wanna hear it Baba. I couldn’t.”

Laila then bursts into tears, loud uncontrollable sobs that has her body shaking from the force of them and there is nothing that Zayn can do other than to gently shush her softly, gently rocking her in his arms, just as he sees both Liam and Luna at the door, being followed shyly by an older lady who he assumes is his mum.

When they had dropped Luna off at her house on Friday, she was asleep, so Liam just took her in as quickly as possible. So he hadn’t actually met her yet.

She smiles at him and comes right over, to sit right by him.

_“It’s nice to meet you, finally.”_ She says quietly, “She’s such a darling.” She continues, pointing down at Laila who’s still hiding, who’s calmed down a little, her face still in his chest.

“Karen.” She says nodding her head.

“Zayn.” He says doing the same

“Oh, I know, neither Liam nor Luna have shut up about you.”

Zayn chuckles. “Really now.” He laughs, eyes directly looking at Liam sat down with Luna on the actual table. His cheeks a harsh pink and Zayn achieved what he set out to do.

“I’ll take you up, to the gallery I mean, I’m going that way home anyways. Come over for dinner soon.”

“I’d love too, Mrs Payne.” He smiles.

“Karen, please. It’s so nice to see Liam with someone that makes him blush at the mere mentioning of your name.”  
  


They both laugh at Liam’s expense and he whines out, _Brilliant, honestly brilliant, meet him for one second and you’re already cracking jokes like you’re old friends. Brilliant behaviour._

“I do nothing but impress.” She replies to him sarcastically, all three of them laughing hard.

“We should get going.” She tells him when they’ve calmed down. Luna hun, can you take Laila to play in your room please.”

“Hey jaan.” He whispers into Laila’s ear. She’s still in a sulky mood but he really has to get going for work now.

“I’m gonna go to the gallery. Mr Liam is bringing you over later so that all of us can go grab a bite to eat. Is it okay you stay with Luna till then?”

“Can we go to Wagamama?” She asks, barely audible. “We’ll see later. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

  
“Yes.” She replies just as Luna comes over, taking her by the arm to walk into her bedroom right across the hall. Hearing a _don’t worry, you’re safe here_ coming out of Luna as the walk off together hand in hand.

For a moment, he’s not as worried for her like he was a minute ago.

“Shall we.” Mrs Payne asks.

“Give us a minute mum.” Liam says answering for him. She smirks and walks out behind the girls and Liam waits until she’s closed the door, until he crawls across the long table, literally _crawls his way to where Zayn’s still sitting._

“Please say thank you.” Zayn tells him just as Liam’s lips touch his. “Tell her yourself in the car.” Liam says biting on his bottom lip now making Zayn pull back a little.

Zayn stands up, and Liam compensates by lifting himself onto his knees, grabbing hold of Zayn’s hips in the process. “I’ll be there at just gone six okay?”

“Brilliant.” Zayn smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Liam’s nose.

And so it goes.

*

About week later, Zayn’s sat on his phone waiting outside Laila’s still new dance class waiting on her whilst she changes. It’s the second week of attending two lessons and so far, she’s loving it.

Zayn’s texting Ahan about changing the way she visits over the weekend, because Laila flat out refused to go the weekend previously and that breaks the custody arrangement.

She’s asking to call, and Zayn walks away a bit to not be in the thick of the crowd.

“Hey _jaan_.” She says not hesitating. “I agree.” She continues.

“I just think it would be a bit easier if you’re down here.”

“Wouldn’t cause as much hassle?”

“Yes and no, she won’t see your parents but _Ahan_ she was crying her eyes out Friday morning and I just _couldn’t_ bring her. I hope you understand that.” Because it’s true. He’d sent her a quick text and he’d kept Laila whilst he saw Liam, then they took the girls to the cinema to end the night on a bit of a happy note.

“I do,” She answers quietly, “but it’s weird now, weekends without her.”

“How’s the situation with him?”

“He went to my parents to try to make me go back. Sometimes I wish they would have just been happy with you; _cause we wouldn’t be here._ ”

“Don’t think like that.”

“Hmm. It’s been a little hard not to think that lately.”

“If you start coming down every Tuesday and leave on Thursday, it wouldn’t so bad wouldn’t it?” He asks now, aware that he’s asking her to change her off days.

“Yes, work pays more over the weekend anyway. So I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, if you catch an afternoon train it means I have enough time to pick you up and then come for Laila at dance.”

“Isn’t that where you are now?”

Zayn laughs, “Yes, she’s just finished her tap class but she’s taking her sweet time to come out.” Ahan laughs on the other side of the line, he would be lying if he didn’t say he misses her badly sometimes.

“It would be nice to see her when she’s got stuff to do.”

“Well we do dance today and Qu’ran at the Masjid tomorrow, then we can drop you off at the station on Thursday before Urdu at six.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“No, you are, who would have thought you’d be so good and organised seven years ago.”

“You..., you kinda left.” It’s funny, in the so many years they’ve had their arrangement, none of them had brought this topic up.

“ _I’m sorry.”_

“I know.”

“How’s Liam?”

“Arms deep in surgery today. I’ll see him tomorrow though.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“More then I tell you.”

“His Ammi was so nice about everything when she arrived. I wanted to give her petrol money, but she wouldn’t have any of it. So I gave her a handful of Zainab’s handesh instead.”

“Could have sent some down with Laila.” He laughs. “Her desserts are always to die for.”

Zainab was the only person in Ahan’s family that didn’t hate his existence. And she’s always adored that about her.

“Sorry, jaan.” She says laughter in her voice.

“ _Hey,_ don’t do that, and _Ahan,_ look at jobs down here, I think it’s now time you come back to the place that makes you happy.”

“I was thinking about it, because I’m quite sure now they can unite over this and finally agree to a wedding.”

“You never wanted that though.”

“I wanted _you_.”

“M _ahjabeen_.”

“I know. _I know._ Like I said, a lot to think about this week.”

Zayn finally sees Laila coming out of the changing room, backpack in her hand, tap shoes thrown hapzardly over her shoulders. A pair of pale blue tracksuit bottoms over her baby pink leotard.

She looks exhausted, her pinned up hair is a bit of a mess, but then she spots him, and runs up to him beaming, running straight into his legs.

“Do you wanna speak to _Ammi_?” He asks quietly when he bends to grab her bag.

She nods, one hand coming up to take the phone, the other to grab his fingers.

_“Salaam Ammi, tum kaisi ho.” How are you._

_*_

“Does that one mean anything?” Liam’s asking the next night whilst they’re sat in the nook watching the credits of Moana. The one film they’ve both watched more than a thousandth time. He’s caressing the tattoo on his left hand, looking at it intently in the soft light.

The girls are asleep in front of them, covered up with blankets, Liam’s massive soft floor pillows being put to good use. It’s semi dark where they are. The room is on the bottom level of the house, tucked between the bedroom and the guest room, isn’t a cinema as such, but it works as a cosier area to spend the night in, rather than the larger reception rooms at the front of the house.

“It’s a mandala.” Zayn explains. “It’s usually drawn in mehndi but I kinda liked the idea of it as a tattoo, and all of them mean something.”

“I honestly can’t get over just how many there are.”

“Confession time.”

“Ooohhh, go on.”

“It’s a bit of a kink.” Liam laughs and raises his brows.

“Ahh ahh. We are putting the kids to bed first, then we can talk about kinks.” He says getting up.

“Ahh, I was quite comfy here thanks.” Zayn whines, grabbing hold of Liam’s arm and pulling back, letting him fall unceremoniously onto his lap.

“I like it when you whinge.” Liam says twisting round to tilt up for a kiss.

“Stay.” He pouts.

“Let me put the girls to bed, then you can talk about kinks to your heart content.” He says laughing, pushing himself off him, switching off the tv in the process.

Zayn gives in and stands up to help.

“Beti, jaan.” He whispers into Laila’s ear, “Let’s go to bed.” He continues, shaking her softly. Her hair was still wet from her bath, her cheeks pink from the heat of the blanket, eyes still closed in defiance. “Beti.” He repeats a little firmer now, his eyes watch as Liam picks Luna up, waiting on him to take them up to bed.

Laila’s eyes flicker open, her jade green almost hazel as she stirs enough to pick her up.

He follows Liam down the stairs, careful to not trip on the light golden runner carpet.

Silently, the work together to change both girls finding Laila’s pyjamas already laid out on the bed for him. He realises that it’s not the easiest task in near pitch dark.

It’s their first night sleepover and even though it’s a mid-week date, it was Liam’s only light day at work.

Liam flicks on Luna’s night light and he can finally see what he’s doing. Pulling down Laila’s Wonder Woman night dress over her head while she waits patiently half asleep at the foot of Luna’s own white poster bed.

When he’s done, he lifts her into her designated part of the bed and tucks her in, dropping little kisses down her face as she happily snuggles up to _Mrs Little_ the teddy, the one thing she refused to leave the house without earlier today.

He’s watching Liam mirror his actions as Luna happily settles with Hedwig. And it’s the only confirmation Zayn need to know that Luna’s name is 100% Harry Potter inspired.

Liam steps back, switching on the baby monitor he uses and signalling with his head to make their way outside. Closing the door softly behind them, taking Zayn’s hand to lead him back upstairs and right up to the bedroom.

Zayn let’s go, to go find the bag Mrs Bell had taken upstairs when he first arrived.

“It’s probably on the dresser.” Liam says helpfully as he walks over to where a pair of shorts lie on the chaise.

Zayn in the meantime quickly changes into his joggers taking off his sweater he grabs his night shirt and his shampoo, he walks into the bathroom to wash down his hair.

It’s the day he oils it, and there is no way he’s about to skip it.

When he doesn’t come back, Liam comes in search of him, finding Zayn kneeling over the bath, scrubbing.

“Not gonna lie, that’s a good look on you.” Liam laughs, Zayn realising he’s bent over the tub causing a bit of a scene.

“You’re either gonna help, or you can go wait on the bed.” He says semi seriously.

Liam comes over, steps over him, and takes the showerhead to help rinse out Zayn’s hair.

When he’s done, Liam hands him a towel, just as he reaches for his bauble.

“You don’t dry it?” He asks as he watches Zayn pull the towel around his neck.

“Nope.” He smiles, “You’ll see.” Picking up his shirt to pull it over his head as he walks out of the room, rummaging in his bag to find his oil.

Liam follows him out dutifully, settling on the bed next to Zayn to watch as the process takes over. Spreading the towel over the mattress so that he doesn’t ruin the sheets.

“You’ve got so much patience with it.” He comments as Zayn’s running product into the lengths of his hair.

“It’s cause I love it that’s why.”

“I have a feeling it’s your love language.”

Zayn scoffs, laughing, “My what?”

“Your patience with things, with your art, Laila. _Ahan.”_

“You’re bringing her up again.”

“Like I said, I like how you are with her.”

Zayn flips his hair over his head, a hand going up to shake it into place before tying it back up again.

_“She called me yesterday, when I was getting Laila from dance.”_

“Really.”

“Hmm, we broke the custody agreement when I didn’t take her up last Friday.” He stops, debating or not he should start this conversation now.

“And? I feel like there is an _and_ here.”

Zayn nods. “I’m not taking her back up, she’s coming down.”

Liam’s eyebrows shoot up, like he’s confused.

“She agreed to that?”

“Yeah, Tuesday afternoon to Thursday afternoon. She doesn’t want Laila around him neither.”

“Well, _yeah.”_

“I have some good news too.”

“Huh?”

“As of the end of May, I get Friday till Monday off again.”

Zayn grins, “How did you manage that?”

 _“Family commitments.”_ Liam says in air quotes.

“Really now.” Zayn chuckles, tackling him, ended up on top of him, his thighs over Liam’s chest, kissing him a bit too ardently.

“ _God_ , I love that you’re opening up.” Liam moans between kisses.

“Oh,” He smirks, you’ve seen nothing yet.”

“What were you on about… about kinks.”

Zayn giggles, “Oh now you wanna go back to it.”

“Zee, didn’t really wanna have this conversation when the girls are right _there_.”

“They were asleep!” He says sticking his tongue out, trying to get off Liam, who stops him by planting his hands on his hips.

“Sooo, tell me.”

“I have a pain kink.” He tells him as cleanly as possible without falling over himself laughing.

“You have a… what?” Liam asks dumbfounded.

“With the needle.” He explains, “Most times it reminds me I’m still alive.”

Zayn this time, manages to get off him so he can sit back on the linen sheets, grabbing the towel off the bed, folding it, and dropping it onto the chaise.

“It started out cause I used to have a friend that did tattoos but then, kinda liked creating a body of work, that’s mine, all over me.”

“It’s amazing cause it’s nearly all of it.” Liam says, sitting up.

“Hmm, not everywhere yet, but we’re getting there.”

“It doesn’t turn it into anything sexual does it?”

“Oh no.” He smiles, “I just like the way it feels.”

“I nearly got a tattoo at uni once but chickened out _hard_.”

“No way.” Zayn chuckles, coming back up the bed to lie next to him.

Liam giggles, “We had the May ball, and a bunch of us where piss drunk and it turned into a dare. The guy I was closest with still has a a shoddy tattoo of a massive stickman under a guillotine in the middle of his back, and he’s a freaking neurosurgeon now.”

They both giggle their heads off and then Zayn says, “Would love to see that.”

“Oh no, he’ll kill me that you even know about it.”

“Ahahaha, definitely wanna see it now.”

“Hey, listen,” Liam tells him now changing the subject, grabbing Zayn’s hand to lead him right off the bed, to the door of the balcony, taking him outside to light a cigarette.

“I can take a few days off around my birthday,” He starts, handing the little rollie to Zayn so they can share. “so with the four rest days and about six days off, it means we can go somewhere nice if you’re down.” He continues as Zayn hands it back.

Zayn straightens up to look at him because he definitely didn’t expect an invitation like that.

“You for real?” He asks, making sure.

“Yes.” He shrugs, “They asked today if I want to take them, and I said I’ll think it over and tell management tomorrow so that they don’t schedule me surgeries then.”

“Definitely down, although the girls?

Liam pouts face partially lit up with the soft light from inside, then laughs, “Might have called mum when I came to pick you up from the mosque. She’s okay with babysitting.” Liam says, going back inside to grab a blanket, throwing it over both of them as they sit on the outdoor sofa, looking down at his darkened garden and little spots of light from the skyline beyond.

“Fuck that, you’re _TOO_ much.”

“She said yes though.” Liam retorts pulling him closer.

“Would have suggested a sitter, but we both know how you feel about that.” He smirks. Liam coming closer to grab his chin to kiss him.

“How do you feel about Venice?” He whispers into Zayn’s lips.

“ _ITALY!”_

 _“_ Yeah what do you think?

“You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ve thought this through too much.” He laughs, getting back on top of Liam.

“I just wanna spend time with you,” He replies tilting up to kiss him.

_“Definitely falling in love with you, Mr Payne.”_

_“Definitely falling in love with you, Mr Malik.”_

_“_ Only way I go is if I pay half of everything.” He whispers into Liam’s lips.

“Nah, ah.” He protests.

“Yes Li.” He asserts, pulling his face away. “I’m not here for a free ride.”

“ _No_ , I invited you, so it’s my shout.”

“I’m gonna fight you on this.”

“Then, let’s not do that tonight, because I really _don’t_ want that.”

“Fine, I’m rain checking it, but honestly Li, can’t set a precedence of you paying for things just because you can. _I can too you_ know.”

“I know _love_ , but I want too, that’s the difference.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Hmm.” Liam smiles.

Liam goes inside to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. He can see Zayn watching him sceptically because Liam knows that he doesn’t drink.

“It’s _Chateau De Fleur_ , they do non alcoholics. _”_

It wipes Zayn’s confusion out of him, and he takes the glass Liam’s offering.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a heater.” Liam laughs, clinking his glass with Zayn’s.

“As far as I’m aware, we aren’t the spending the night out here.”

“Nahh ahh, that view up there trumps _this_.”

“Nahh.” He says, shaking his head, “This is just as incredible.” He says sipping at the sparkling wine.

He puts his glass down, and shakes out his still wet hair, he’s hoping that the slight wind helps dry it faster.

“This is my favourite spot for breakfast in the summer.”

“Well, I can certainly see why.” He answers a little preoccupied with his hair.

“The smell coming off it right now is incredible.” Liam comments, tugging a little at the blanket.

“Hmm, this is my favourite part now, I give it about an hour tied up it helps with keeping it moist, and then as it air dries it kinda volumes up.”

“I freaking love it.” Liam smiles.

They sit there talking, like Zayn’s always had a place in this house, next to this incredible man.

“I’ll go.” Zayn speaks after a while, when it’s late and they’re falling asleep.

“Always liked the idea of going to Venice, cliché but there we go.”

Liam laughs, “I think it’s why I want to go.”

“Definitely have drawn it.” Zayn tells him.

“Really. Well I can definitely wanna take you now to sketch the real thing.”

Zayn chuckles, “Should probably show you my sketchbooks now to be honest.”

“You have sketchbooks?”

“Course I do, most people have diaries, I have sketchbooks. Ring bound and keeps everything together. I date things, so on a particular day, I know who I’ve sketched.

“You’re full of freaking surprises.” Liam smiles, kissing his cheekbone.

Liam gets up, taking the half-drunken bottle with him. “It’s good isn’t it?”

“Yes actually, it’s nice to sit and have a drink without feeling bad about it.” Zayn replies, as Liam walks inside to go place it in the mini fridge, Zayn had only found out about the weekend previous.

“You put your phone on charge yet?” Liam asks, popping his head out the door.

“Shit no.” Zayn says getting up. “I have a deadline tomorrow, would have been dead if I didn’t wake.”

Liam chuckles to himself. “I know _jaan_.”

_And there is that word again, coming out of Liam’s mouth like its always belonged there. The one Zayn has no clue what to do with just yet._

Zayn watches from the corner of his eye as Liam dims the bright light of the room with a switchboard right next to his bed stand. Zayn shakes his head, because _rich people things._

He sets the alarm and plugs his phone in before joining Liam on the bed again.

Sometimes it’s so hard to understand how his entire life has changed in a mere four weeks, but it has, and it will continue to do so, and Zayn’s not really quite sure he deserves it, but life without this beautiful man would just seem… dull.

“Hey you, up there.” Liam says tapping at the centre of his forehead, “Stop thinking, and come cuddle.”

The moment he settles, Liam turns on the lamp shade grabs a small remote from the bedside table and clicks it, immediately a mirror that Zayn thought was stuck to the wall inverts and a tv pops up. He gawks and Liam smiles to himself.

They fall into each other to one of the Harry Potter movies, and as he watches Liam’s face turn a soft shade of blue, he drifts into a calm sleep.

*

They fall into a routine Zayn’s seldom made effort to force. And soon, April falls into May and suddenly it’s July, and bit by bit, time seems to fly.

It’s Saturday afternoon and he’s sat on blankets in the park with both girls while Liam goes down the path to get them ice – cream. The sky is blue, and Laila starts complaining about the heat the moment Liam walks away, falling into him unceremoniously as he scrambles to catch her.

“Luna hun.” He says, she looks up from her colouring book to look at him. “come here.”

She complies sweetly, unlike Laila with her bold sentences and her dramatic ironic pauses and a multitude of facial expressions, Luna is sweet and placid and you’re far more likely to find her hidden under the bed covers after bedtime with a torch reading her eyes off then dancing in the middle of Liam’s ballroom to the beauty and the beast soundtrack.

He’s saying this, because Laila’s done just that when she was meant to be preparing for a bath.

Over time, with spending more time at the house, she’s learnt how to mess with _Mrs Bell_ and the more she’s gotten comfortable in the new space, the more chaos she causes.

Mischief is the name of the game.

Luna comes and sits next to him, her hands holding her book to show him what she’s been doing. He smiles and pulls them in, “That’s super amazing!”

“Thank you, Mr Zayn!” She smiles at him, her soft blue eyes looking up at him obviously pleased.

“You know how it’s your daddy’s birthday soon.”

She nods and he pulls her into him further, “Do you think you could find me a picture of your mum that’s not in a frame when we go home?”

“Maybe,” She starts, and he can see her brain trying to figure out what he’s up too.

“Can you keep a secret?” She nods and giggles and sits. “It’s for his birthday!” He says bending down to whisper in her ear.

“I think Mrs Bell has most of them in the library, because they used to make daddy sad, so she put them away.”

“We can go look for them there then, and remember, don’t tell him please, it’s a surprise.” He answers her happily, bringing her into a side hug as he watches Liam coming back with three little cones.”

“Look, daddy’s coming.” He points, just as Laila sits up to fix her hat too look at him. Taking off running to help him.

If Laila is anything, she’s definitely is just as in love with Liam as he is, and the more time that passes, the more she shows it with her whole heart.

Luna in the meantime stays next to him, happy to wait till he arrives. Still clutching at her drawing book looking like she wants to say something but is thinking about it.

Then she stands so that her mouth is directly by his ear. “Thank you for making my daddy happy again.” She whispers, kissing his cheek. Putting her arm around his neck holding it there.

Liam’s now close enough to have witnessed the interaction and they smile at each other. Because only a week ago he was concerned that Luna hasn’t really spoke to Zayn. And in reality, she _hasn’t_ but she has come to lie on him if they’re watching a film, or he’s reading the girls something. And she has shared her prized Turkish delight sweets with him, which Liam only gives her on special occasions. So he hasn’t been particularly worried. He had to remind Liam that she’d already lost her mum, attaching to new people must be simultaneously the hardest and bravest thing she can do now.

Liam drops a kiss on Laila’s head, when they both drop down on the gingham blanket, uttering a _“thank you love.”_ As he hands Luna hers.

They get to share a strawberry flavour scoop, because Zayn’s not big on ice – cream and by now Liam’s aware of it. Wiggling up the blanket to find his spot next to him, they laugh as the watch the girls try not their dresses filled with it.

“Here is to nearly four months of us.” Liam whispers in his ear.

And that’s that.

*

A few days later, when he’s in the safety of his studio and he knows there is no chance of Liam stopping by, he finds his backpack to take out the picture he asked for. He and Luna spent about fifteen minutes trying to find one they both like and she’s been sworn to secrecy and Zayn’s hoping she’s good at not babbling.

He’s got about four weeks to Liam’s birthday and between three restoration projects and his last commission, Zayn has an idea.

_Now all he has to do is pull it off._

_*_

A text comes in the next Tuesday just as he’s about to go pick Ahan up from the station. It’s three in the afternoon and it’s freaking 34 degrees. People literally look like they’re melting around him. He looks down at his phone see it’s from Liam. 

_Leaavve has come through!! Flight to Venice booked! All I have to do now is sort out the hotels._

_Aren’t you meant to be in the OR?!_ Zayn texts back smiling _._

_Yep, surgery in 20 mins, nearly time for the final patient meeting. Tell Ahan I say hi and plsss talk to her about what we discussed! xxx_

_I willlll NOW GO xxx_ He sends pushing his phone into his pocket to wait for Ahan to come through the automatic doors.

They meet near the taxi stand, and while he isn’t supposed to stop there for long, he’s found it’s the easiest way to find each other.

She comes though and immediately spots his little trusted white Audi A3, waving as she walks to him.

Their new routine has meant Ahan spends the majority of time with them at home, he doesn’t mind it as such, but it has the potential to become a tiny bit awkward.

“Hey.” Ahan says as she makes it to the car, getting in. Immediately she switches on the AC on full blast and takes her hijab off.

“AHH.” She scoffs, taking off her cap and letting her dark curly hair out from its bauble. “I hate this fucking weather.” She continues digging around to find a water bottle in her bag. Zayn’s laughs, he’s not even driven off yet.

“Well, we have almost till five to go get Laila, I can always take you to Li’s to freshen up.”

“Would he mind?”

“I have a key. Plus, you can meet Luna.”

“When did you get a key?” She asks, because he hasn’t told her that Liam had asked him to move in yet.

“A couple weeks ago, ever since I stopped doing commissions, I have a little bit more time to breathe.”

“Aren’t they the replica shite.”

“Yep, just working on restorations means I have more time to focus on Laila.”

“I’m guessing less stress too.”

“Oh, definitely.” He answers, “We’re going then?”

“Where does he live exactly?”

“Kensington.”

She laughs, pulling the sun visor to check her makeup in the mirror. Zayn thanks God it isn’t rush hour cause he’s barely having to make any effort to drive across the city.

“I mean, I know he’s a doctor and all, but fucking Kensington man, how did you fall on your feet.”

He takes the slight dig at him, because at the end of the day, this is _Ahan_ he’s talking too.

“He’s a doctor with a trust fund.”

“Only you, _Z_.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “Only you.”

“Technically, he came to my class.”

“That sounds familiar.”

Zayn chuckles, “I know.”

“Brought down a new set from Edin Blyton by the way.” She tells Zayn as she starts pulling her under cap back on, obviously feeling a little cooler now.

“She whizzed through Malory Towers; she’s already given them to Luna.”

“She’s way too smart for a six-year-old I swear.” Ahan laughs.

“We did that.” He says, putting out his left hand so she can high five it. Which she does.

“More like _you_ did that, I see her twice a week.”

“Meh, you’re still her mum silly.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see her looking at his _Cartier_ bracelet Liam had got them both two months after meeting.

Zayn has never been good with gifts, but he’d agreed to it because he liked the idea of keeping the key to Liam’s round his neck and vice versa. He’s made Liam promise him that he wouldn’t just up and go by gifts though. Usually it’s hidden underneath his shirts, _but it’s that kind of hot today._

“How on earth did he make it through Eid?”

Zayn laughs, “And you’re asking because?”

“Because from what it looks like you two cannot keep your hands off each other.”

“Says the girl that knows it took a year for us to fuck.”

She slaps his arm scoffing, like she’s embarrassed he’s brought it up.

“You know, haven’t really gone past kissing.” Because it’s true, while everything else has moved fast, Liam has respected his need to stay away from sexual behaviour.

“And yet he buys you a five-thousand-pound bracelet.”

“Your point?”

“My point is, he’s crazy or stupid.”

“You’re good fun.”

“Oh come… on Zayn, how is any of this normal?”

“It isn’t, and that’s probably the point.”

They pull into Liam’s street and drives right up to their now designated parking lot. Liam had just finished fixing up all the paperwork so that Zayn’s plate isn’t pulled up and ticketed when they randomly come to check.

“Tell me they’re flats.” Ahan is saying, looking out the window.

“Most Of them are.” He says, reversing.

“And _Liam’s_?”

“You’ll see.”

He says switching off the car, getting out and locking it. She follows suit and then he’s taking her bags to cross the road.

“Where are we going?”

“This way.”

They walk up to number 44, through the gate and then Zayn’s taking out his bunch of key’s to find Liam’s.

“It’s a _full_ fucking house.” She whispers as he turns the key to open the door.

“Come on then.” He says, walking in.

“Hi, Mr Zayn.” Comes Mrs Bell from the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Oh yes please. Mrs Bell, come meet Ahan, Laila’s mum.”

“Lovely to meet you dear. Laila’s a peach. Always a treat to have her round on the weekends.” She offers her hand, which Ahan takes and shakes kindly.

“What can I get for you?”

“Anything cold?”

“I can make you an iced smoothie?”

“Oh please, the train journey wanted to kill me.”

“You can show her to the guest bathroom Mr Zayn can’t you.”

“Yes Mrs Bell, we’ll be in the library.”

“Yes dearie. I’ll be right up.” And Zayn takes Ahan by the arm to lead her up the stairs to where she can have a shower and calm down.

His relationship with the housekeeper is what he calls civil now. She’s learnt to expect him at different hours of the working days, and they’ve talked here and there about politics and current affairs and also about her late husband who Liam used to adore.

Zayn still secretly believes that she thinks he has some hidden agenda, but he doesn’t think about it quite as often now.

“You didn’t tell me he had _servants_.” She says laughing, throwing the loose scarf off her head and on the counter when they make it to the bathroom.

“Ahh, ahh, sshh. He treats them like family.” He tells her firmly, closing the door. “You can shower here and after if you walk across the hall to the white door rimmed with gold, you’ll find the library, I’ll wait there.”

“I _literally_ cannot believe this is real.” She says looking around at the marbled floor and the gold panelled walls and ceiling. “Chandelier in the guest fucking bathroom, _REALLY_ and was that a fucking ballroom with a grand piano in the middle of it, what is this Zed, your biggest wet dream?!”

“Who knew people lived like this huh.” He tells her, taking the books she’s got for Laila from her to lighten her load.

“And we thought _Amir_ was rich.”

“Well then,” He laughs, “I’m definitely _not_ introducing Liam to your parents. Might want to arrange a marriage to him.”

“Not funny.”

“Sure.” He says, giggling more, “Now go on, I’ll be waiting.”

*

In the time it takes Ahan to wash up, Luna arrives home.

Zayn walks to the door and calls her name and instantly she’s running up to him, forgetting what Mrs Bell is asking her.

“Do you want your strawberry shake?” Asking again for Mrs Bell.

“Yes Mr Zayn.”

“Then we should tell her, shouldn’t we?”

“Oh yes.”

“Why don’t you go ask her nicely whilst I find your swimming stuff.”

She hugs his legs and bounds down the grand staircase to run after Mrs Bell.

Zayn walks himself across the hall right into Luna’s bedroom so that he packs her things for swimming class around the time he picks up Laila from her dance. He hears the cluttering coming from the stairs as Mrs Bell makes her way back upstairs.

Luna at her tail, holding her prized strawberry milkshake.

She looks up at him and then jumps up the remaining steps taking his hands as the drops her packed back into one of the white chaises on the landing.

 _“She’s a beautiful woman_.” Mrs Bell comments as she makes it up to the first landing. There is a smile forming over her face. It’s soft and placid and it gives Zayn the impression that something in her tough façade has just cracked.

Both he and Luna hold the door for her so that she can take their drinks to the table easily, she thanks them, and leaves them up to their own devices.

“Have you started daddy’s surprise?” She asks the moment the door is closed. She’s whispering and clambering all over him like it isn’t the first time she’s confidently done that before.

“Yep.” He smiles. “I’ll show you.” Zayn says adjusting her on his lap before grabbing his phone. “I kinda like the idea of putting it on the stairs next to the other big paintings.” He shows her, because he’s full on creating a family portrait like you seen in grand houses.

“You’ve made mummy so pretty.” She says, her index finger reaching out to touch her face.

“You miss her, still don’t you?”

“Uh huh, I still talk to her sometimes, when daddy thinks I’m asleep.”

“You know, you can go talk to him too.”

“I just don’t want to make him sad again.”

“No jaan. Your daddy loves you and your mummy too much to be sad if you talk about her.”

“He loves you too.” She says. unironically. Her hand finding his palm, which he squeezes. “ _I love him too_.” He whispers in her ear. It makes her giggle and that’s exactly what he’s set out to do.

“Here is what we can do, if you ever want to talk to someone about something, come find me, I’ll always listen, and you don’t have to worry about making daddy sad.”

“Thank you, Mr Zayn.” She says, getting off him to sit on the bench next to him. “When can I start calling you Baba.”

Zayn laughs, because for one thing he wasn’t expecting it and secondly, he likes the way she pronounces it.

“I dunno.” He says, side hugging her. “It’s up to you really.”

“Soon, I think.”

“Then soon.” He answers dropping a kiss into her hair.

“Can you braid my hair before swimming?”

“Yes hun.”

At the moment, Ahan opens the door, dressed in a soft yellow floor length sundress. She just stares. Probably at both the sight of Zayn and Luna, but also at the Ravenclaw-esque library wet dream, Liam went and created.

“I swear, every new turn in this house is something out of this planet.”

Luna laughs beside him and Zayn chuckles.

He watches her as she comes over to where they’re sat on the table. Eying up her drink eagerly. Hair wet, makeup off, she’s holding a moisturiser tub in her hand.

“This is Laila’s mum.” He tells Luna, who immediately stands up to shake her hand.

_Private schools manners man._

“Nice to meet you _Mrs Zayn_.” And they both laugh.

“I’m not Mrs _Zayn_ ,” she tells her, “but your daddy _is_ Mr Zayn.” Ahan says with a straight faced, holding out her hand too. Ahan gives him this look and he wants to kill her.

“Did Mr Zayn show you, what he’s doing for daddy’s birthday?” Luna asks pushing Zayn’s phone forward. He silently unlocks it and hands it’s to Ahan, who gasps.

“Oh _gosh_ , this is incredible Zed.”

Zayn lowers his eyes, because even after knowing her for this long, he still hates her compliments on his art.

“Should see what he leaves about the house.” Luna says getting off the bench to run up to a newly installed sketch box just for Zayn.

She pulls out a pouch full of scrap he does when he’s bored, bringing it back to the table for her to see.

As of late, drawings of Watson, because he’s never been around a domesticated dog before.

“Mr Zayn has always had a bit of a gift.” Ahan smiles leafing through the papers.

“He’s teaching me and my daddy now.”

“Lulu.” He says because they both keep embarrassing him, “Do you wanna go take your dance uniform off and change into your swimsuit so I can braid your hair please.”

“Yes Mr Zayn.” She complies smiling, walking out the room.

“That child is adorable.”

“Liam says the same thing about ours.”

They laugh and share a look, finally reaching out to drink his coffee.

“I wanna ask you something.” He starts, “And I wanna know what you think of it.”

“Go on.” She says, still leafing through his sketches.

“Liam’s asked me to move in around the end of September… He’s moving to Great Ormond Street to train as a child heart surgeon specialist. Secured the funding and all, but it means he’ll have less time with Luna, and since I home school and work fifteen minutes away, well it kinda makes sense.”

“Is that the reason you’ve stopped taking commissions?”

“Partly. Other part it was killing me, because between Laila’s school and deadlines I barely had time to come up for air.”

“I know.” She says now looking at him smiling sweetly.

“Well, I’m offering you the house. It would be a sore thing for me to leave it to stand empty, and I thought with the situation with Amir and your family, I thought I’d give you the first choice, and it means we can split Laila a little more evenly so you stop feeling like a part time parent.”

She looks at him, hazel eyes narrowed, a hand in her hair, lips pursed.

“Well… I was gonna tell you that I’ve applied for a job down here starting in October. Something I applied on a whim when I was a bit of a mess. A lab in Croydon. Which is twenty minutes away from you by tram. If I get it, yeah, I’ll take the house.”

“That’s perfect!”

She shakes her head. “The thing is, I haven’t told anyone about it yet.”

“Ahan.” Zayn speaks now, rounding the table to sit next to her. “You’re in your late twenties, with a six-year-old little girl and a very understanding ex.” She smirks and Zayn smiles. “Unless you want them controlling you forever, I’d say, come down and live the life you deserve to live. Not in a situation where you can’t live with your parents because of their antics and a boyfriend with a control issue.”

“ _They’ve agreed.”_ And Zayn’s heart sinks for her.

“Then I think, we need to do this soon, before they lock you away in a castle you don’t want.”

“I’ll come.” She whispers, her head on his shoulder, their hands intertwined. “I’ll come because if I don’t, I have no clue where I’ll be in a year.

“You’ll be in a house full of happiness, surrounded by people that love you.”

“What does Liam think?”

“He’s the one that came up with the idea, Mahjabeen.” She leans up to kiss his cheek and they sit there, just like that until Luna bursts in through the door holding a comb and a couple of baubles, followed by Mrs Bell holding cake.

“Come here then.” He tells her, as she runs up to the table dressed only in her lilac swimsuit. He lifts her onto it and Mrs Bell follows with the tray.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dearie.” She tells Ahan, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just had some news, it’s a lot of information to process all at once.”

“I’ll bring you some tea then. Everything is solved with tea.”

Mrs bells speaks as she’s just about to walk out. “Mrs Bell?” Ahan calls out, “Yes dearie?”

“Bring a cuppa for yourself and sit with us for a moment.”

“Sure.” Mrs Bell smiles, glancing over too where Zayn’s sat parting Luna’s hair for her Dutch braids.

She smiles at him, bright and wide, and for a moment it allows Zayn to start believing they’ll be okay after all.

*

The weekend after, when Liam and Luna stay over at his. He’s woken up by the gentle beams of yellow sunlight perforating the room. Zayn likes these still cool summer mornings, likes sitting in his garden after prayers with Laila and coffee. Likes that he gets to spend the entire weekend with Liam now.

They’ve sort of fell into this routine. The three out of seven days they spend together. The soft mornings of Liam sprawled out in his bed. The way the girls always want to invite more girls over to their weekly sleepover.

It’s the first week of August, and all Liam can talk about is the move to Great Ormand. He guesses it’s cause it’s a coveted spot to be awarded and, in all honesty, he couldn’t be any prouder.

His hand finds his bracelet now, wringing it around his wrist. A permanent reminder of what Liam thinks of him.

The more time goes by, the more he’s aware just how lucky this chapter of his life is turning out to be.

“Morning, love.” He speaks into Liam’s hair. Zayn pushes himself up into the headboard just as Liam stirs.

Over the months, he’s come to realise Liam’s an incredibly light sleeper, he blames it on the rest rooms at work, but Zayn’s almost entirely sure it comes from having an almost obsession with checking in on Luna during the night.

“Come on, _jaan_.” It slips out before Zayn has time to think about it. Time to rectify his choice of words. Because while Liam uses the endearment freely since he’s taken to it, Zayn’s never once used it directly for him, or said _I love you_ in so many words for that matter. In all fairness, neither has Liam.

“That’s _new_.” Liam chuckles, eyes still closed, hair a mess, a shadow of a beard on his face. “Come here.” He tells him, and suddenly Zayn’s being pulled by his arm onto Liam’s chest.

As usual.

Zayn presses a kiss to his forehead, just as his thighs hit Liam’s ribs.

“I hate that you wake so early.” Liam moans, his lips asking for a kiss. Zayn laughs and complies.

“I know, but you wanted to go to the bank so.”

“Ahh yes, didn’t have to be waken up at six am though.”

“It’s actually closer to eight.”

“Nahh ah, can’t be.” He whines, “Girls wouldn’t be asleep then.”

“They could have just left us alone?”

“True.” He answers finally flicking his eyes open. And downright proceed to flip them over so that Liam ends up on top of him, his favourite spot.

“You really gotta stop doing that.”

“Please.” Liam laughs, “Morning _, jaan_.”

Liam kisses down the side of his face, down his neck and back up to his ear, which he nibbles on softly, making Zayn shudder.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” He’s whispering between kissing.

Zayn’s body is literally on fire.

Over the last several weeks, especially since Liam’s made his intentions clear it’s been becoming easier to engage with whatever Liam decides to do, and in all honesty he’s kinda enjoying that it’s not taken as long as it did with Ahan.

Although with her, they mostly only saw each other at the class and he only plucked up the courage about five months in, where Liam kinda walked in and never walked out again.

“Someone’s happy.” Liam accentuates, breath heavy, hands nimble across his hips.

“You really don’t need to point it out Mr Payne.”

“Oh always _, Mr Malik.”_ Laughing his head off as he gets off him.

“You’re such a tease.”

“I’m being _good_ and now you’re still _complaining._ You’re fucking incredible.”

“I did say till your birthday.” He giggles, “If I remember correctly, that’s three weeks away.”

“Oh, I _know_.” He smirks standing up to go pee.

“Nutella pancakes today, and that’s your job.” Zayn says loudly walking into his ensuite.

“Yes, yes.” Liam says getting up and walking right into the shower.

They’re comfortable enough for this to have happened a few times and Zayn’s not really thought about it. Slightly awkward because at the end of the day, he’s not the most comfortable showing skin, but Liam has never seemed to care.

“I’m gonna let you do that.” He laughs when he’s done, washing his hands, and fixing his hair just as Liam disappears behind the steam. “I’ll go check on the girls.”

Zayn walks down the carpeted hallway, the morning light now streaming in from the large picture frame window of the garden below them. Zayn secretly has always loved that his room was on the back of the house.

From outside her door, he can hear some kind of entertainment is on as he can hear what he thinks are cartoons coming softly through Laila’s door.

He knocks and a few seconds later Laila opens the door.

“Hi baba, we didn’t wake you, did we?”

“No jaan.” He says looking up at the projector, it’s playing _Up_ and Zayn’s happy she’s learnt to hook it up herself.

“You didn’t come wake us today.”

She shakes her head and smiles, “That’s a baby thing.”

“Laila, you’re _six_.”

“And?”

“Nearly grown soon.”

Zayn’s confused, because he’s not sure where that’s come from.

“Who says.”

“I do.” That’s Luna, looking up from where she’s laying on the bed still.

“I go away to boarding school in a year, you’ve gotta be grown there.”

“Okay.” He says, turning back to Laila, kneeling down so that he can pull her into his lap. “What’s this gotta do with you?”

“I kinda wanna go.”

“There are exams if you wanna do that, and since when do you wanna go to normal school?”

“Since when Luna is going.”

He’s partially wondering if Liam’s had some sort of chat with Luna to prepare her for her 7+ but he’s not said anything to him about it.

“You do know that if you wanna go to something like that you won’t be home for most of the year, right? That you’ll live at school?”

“Yeah, like Mallory towers.”

“Yeah.” He relents, “Like Mallory towers. We’ll think about it and I’ll ask you again soon, when I’ve found some things out, okay? And to make things absolutely clear Laila, there is nothing you can do that’s considered baby things, you’re still my baby no matter how big you get okay?”

She giggles and he tells her softly that they need to go pray. She nods grabbing her pray mat and Qur’an and follows him into the bathroom, where they have to perform Wudu.

They perform Fajr a little later over the weekend, but none the less, still performed.

As they run through their recitations, Zayn’s left wondering how on earth he’s gonna break the news to her that they’re too poor for her to go with Luna, because up to this point, he doesn’t think she’s really realised the major class divide between them.

“Come on then,” He says softly, “I think it’s a good idea to pray on the deck.”

“Ooohhh Baba, _YES_!” running over to open the large double doors, and there is a glimpse of his Laila again, and for a moment it settles his anxieties.

*

“You haven’t by any chance talked to Lulu about her 7+ have you?” He asks Liam when he comes back from outside, a mug of coffee waiting for him on the kitchen counter, Liam in Zayn’s too tight clothes, mixing up the pancake batter, looking fine as fuck.

Zayn lingers a bit too far away to not indulge himself with a cup full of Liam whilst the girls are colouring in the same space.

“Um, _yeah_ , the school asked if I needed private lessons, and we had to have a chat about her maths.”

“What do you mean?”

“She hates it, _with passion_ but she needs it to get into Burgess Hill Girls?”

“Is that where you want her to go?”

“I’ve liked it for a while, but it’s a hell of a fight to get in really.”

“Laila asked to go.”

Liam stops what he’s doing to look at him. Zayn moves closer to him, so that their conversation isn’t overheard.

“What?”

Zayn raises his brows, “Yeah, asked to go to boarding school like _Luna_.”

“That wouldn’t be, particularly a bad thing.”

“Nahh ahh, for one thing, she’s not really spent more than two nights away from me, and secondly, _I cannot afford it.”_

“Eh, that something we can take care of.”

“Um no.”

“Um yes.”

“Liam no.”

“ _Jaan._ ”

“You don’t get to use that word to get out of replying to things.”

Liam smiles. “How about we start with working on her sitting her 7+.”

“How about not.”

“What’s the big deal though?”

“The big deal _IS_.” But Zayn stops because at the end of the day the girls are still in the room and he’s not in the mood to start an argument about money. “It’s about thirty thousand a year.”

“Liam, I make _THIRTY-SIX_!” It’s a whispered conversation, but it’s definitely a major disagreement.

Liam doesn’t reply immediately, finishes the pancake that’s on the pan and pulls it out, before moving everything off direct heat.

“Zee, it’s gonna be a stretch for Luna to get in. And that’s not because I have no belief in her, but her maths skills drag her down a tiny little bit. Laila on the other hand, good gosh, _where do I start._ English and Urdu fluently, Arabic to learn her recitations and _French_ for fun, and that’s _just_ her language department. I’m not gonna even talk about the way she draws. Or the way she articulates. Or the way she seems to excel in every freaking class you put her in. If anyone deserves a spot at _that_ school, it’s _your_ Laila. The child you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into. What did I do? I stuck her in a fancy school, on a wing and a prayer, hoping it’s the right choice.”

“You don’t have to be so harsh on yourself.” Gentler now. He never knew Liam saw it like that. Bringing a hand up to rest it over his jaw.

“And I can help with the Maths if it’s the only thing that’s keeping her.”

“Really?”

“I mean, we move in with you in a few weeks, can definitely do extra maths work with her whilst Laila is at one of her classes, are we sure it’s just that class?”

Liam nods, pulling the pan back now to finish off breakfast.

“It’s the only grade on her report that’s a C, but I’d like to check everything else too.”

“If it were up to me, I’d pull her. Save you a year worth of fees and work her up to a place she can’t mess up her entrances.”

“You think you can do that?”

“I don’t know if you only see half of it because of your work scheduling and Mrs Bell helping with homework, but she’s definitely just as smart, in the right setting. Plus I could use the library to divide and conquer.”

“What about work?”

“Well, you already know that I’ve stopped commissions.” Liam nods, and Zayn finds the Nutella. “Well restorations pay more for less hours, cause it’s considered more specialised and time sensitive work, and I keep my class on Sunday. My pay packet actually goes up.”

“Funny you didn’t know before.”

“I _did_ , but permanent restorations doesn’t open up for years because of exactly this reason.”

“And you got it now because?”

“Because after your eight year with them you become what’s called a senior conservator, and I’m the only one been there the longest.” He continues, finding plates and cutlery. Glasses for their orange juice and a small selection of fruit from the fridge.

“So it means how many physical hours you have to be at the Gallery?”

“Apart from Sunday? it’s 6 hours a day, so even if I leave at 7, I can be home for solid afternoon sessions with Luna cause I can guarantee you Laila will still want to come with me but yes, it’s more than enough time to handle both in a day.”

“You’re a good salesman.”

Zayn laughs, “Sure, but I’m serious. If you want her to go to _that_ school, we’ll get here there.”

“What about Leli?”

“I’ll think about, I don’t think I can justify thirty grand a year out of your pocket like that.”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world Zee.”

“It feels like it to me.”

“Girls.” Zayn says bringing up his hand to motion both of them over, off the sofa. “Leli, come help set the table.”

“You too Luna.” Liam booms behind him.

They smile at each other and get on with the rest of the morning routine, only leaving around eleven to make their noon appointment at Arbuthnot Latham, Liam’s _private bank_.

*

It doesn’t take them long to arrive in Moorgate, but when Zayn tells him that he’ll wait outside at a Pret, Liam looks at him funny, arguing that he won’t be long at all.

The offices are opulent as expected and they’re shown into a welcome room as they wait for his appointment. After a few minutes, a lady who identifies herself as Ada, comes out to usher them into an adjoining office. There is an olive-green damask carpet on the floor and walls lined with dark panelled wood, holding up framed diplomas for the life of them, and Zayn feels like he’s walked into Liam’s house for the very first time again.

“I understand you’re getting married soon, and you’re looking into your options.” Is the first thing out of her mouth and he looks at Liam like he’s lost his mind.

But he can see _Liam_ smirking, holding his hand the moment they sit down, the girls finding their ways to their laps.

“Yes.” Liam says carrying on the conversation. “I’ve already got a trust fund set up for Luna, but I was hoping you can give me more information about spousal options.”

And that’s when Zayn stops listening, because he’s barely wrapped his head round dating Liam, he’s not even begun to think about something as permanent as that, or that Liam would ever want that with _him._

He keeps looking at Ada’s bright blue eyes as she’s talking her mouth off, but nothing is entering Zayn’s brain.

When he forces himself to listen in, she’s got a brochure out and is explaining the different packages Liam’s allowed to pick from.

“You’ve already got six different accounts with us, Mr Payne, two of which are trust funds as you said, one from your father, and the one you’ve set up for your daughter, and the other are there to help manage your wealth. As your net worth is over fifty million, you’re kinda allowed to dictate what you need.”

He squeezes Liam’s hand, because up until this moment, he had no idea what kind of financial situation he’s in. Liam squeezes right back and proceeds to say something Zayn never thought would ever come out of his mouth.

“I need to set up another fund for Ms Laila here, and to open up a joint account where there is access for both of us.”

And if they weren’t in a meeting of this sort, where he has to be polite, this would definitely have been their first major fight.

“I need Laila’s account to be the same set up as Luna, where money goes in monthly but also her school fees are taken from there.”

“How much money do you wish to be on the standing order, Mr Payne?” Ada says, smiling at both of them.

“I think fifteen k would do it.”

“And what starting balance in your joint?”

“Well you can transfer the five hundred k there is in my personal right now and double it plus you can put another 500 in his personal account.” Liam says tilting his head to say _Zayn’s personal account._

Ada clicks about on her computer screen for a couple of minutes and then asks Zayn what bank he’s currently with.

“What your full name?” She’s looking at him expectantly and Zayn can do nothing but comply. “You’ll find me under Zain Javadd Malik with Santander.” She smiles at him and then goes back to clicking about.

“I have asked for your banking details.” She supplies, “Are we okay to add whatever you have to a personal account with us?”

“Well, I have two accounts, one’s a saving ISA, the other my current. I’d prefer if you kept them separate please.”

“Certainly, Mr Malik, I also need you to supply me your work details and length of employment.”

Once Zayn answers all her questions politely, she goes about clicking some more.

“Well,” she says, standing up, coming round her embellished oak desk to hand him a welcome brochure and other relevant bits and bobs. “You now have joined up assets. You will receive your new debit cards in the mail sometime this week.” Zayn stands up, and so does Liam to shake her hand. Walking out of the office a little bit dumbfounded.

_And this is the story of how Zayn became an instant millionaire._

Once outside, Zayn takes Laila’s hand and walks them over to the tiny park on the street opposite. Needing a minute.

Liam follows with Luna, refusing to talk so there is enough time to process the fucking events.

Only telling the girls to stay in sight as they run for the swings.

“How mad are you?”

“ _Mad.”_

“I was gonna tell you at home, but then the conversation about Laila came up and, I just… didn’t know how.”

They sit down on an empty park bench, just close enough to be able to watch the girls.

“Liam. You’ve known me _four_ months. At some point _even I_ have to pull the breaks, because what the actual fuck! I’m kinda glad I’m not a clout chaser or here for the affluence because if you aren’t more careful you can _definitely_ be taken for a ride with an attitude like that. And for the record, I don’t appreciate having decisions made for me.”

Liam doesn’t answer, just sits there far away enough to not be touching each other. “Maybe it was dumb, but it was the only way to do it cleanly.”

“You call this clean? Because I’m definitely mad and I’m definitely thanking _Allah_ that I’m not _Keith_. You can’t just go about making people very wealthy Liam, it’s just not how the world works.”

“I felt it was justified with you.”

“How, by walking into a bank under the guise that we’re more involved than we are to get what you want.”

“That sounds very wrong.”

“No Liam, it sounds just about right, because while I’m grateful for every single thing you do and have done… how am I meant to repay you for this?”

“Actually _marry me_.”

And Zayn’s left speechless for a moment, because literally what the actual fuck.

“How are you so… sure.”

“Jaan,” And then Liam’s on a roll, “– I was sure the moment you pulled out the bloody heater on the top floor of the National Portrait Gallery. And every single day that passes it proves that first gut reaction ever since. I fall in love with you more, _every single day_ … I would like you to pay off your house with some of the money, so that there is no mortgage on it anymore, and maybe if you’re up for it, I’ll make the arrangements for Luna to be pulled out of school. From now on, I’m taking away the biggest fucking stress you’ve had since you got thrown out at sixteen.”

Zayn relents, his anger shattering under the weight of Liam’s words, because this isn’t just some fling for him, a passing ship docking in the harbour to avoid bad weather. Liam’s just gone and made him his home port, where he’ll always call after a long voyage, because it’s _home._

“I’ll call my bank about the mortgage on Monday, how about that, but I’m gonna need you to transfer back the what’s left of the five hundred k post mortgage and tax, because _damn it_ Liam, I’m out here happy with the thirty k in savings for Laila and you just can drop shit like that like it’s nothing, _however_ , I’ll keep the card for joint account for things to do with you and the girls.” He softly says a hand finally finding Liam’s taking it and holding it there. Looking down at their locked bracelets gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“Do you really believe I can get them into _that_ school?” Zayn continues when Liam doesn’t reply.

Liam smiles. “Fine, I’ll compromise, but only if it makes you happy, as for the school, I think you have more than enough capability and then some to get them into _that_ school.”

“Thank you, Li, I don’t know what to say, but _thank you_.”

Liam grabs his shoulder and pulls him into his chest, “I’m a doctor love, I fix people for a living, just remember that when I do something funny like this please.”

At that moment, he sees Laila coming back at him. Hair going everywhere, dress flying in the gentle wind. Luna following behind her, holding her straw hat from falling off her head. “Incoming.” He says pointing. Liam laughs and they both move so that they can catch them when they arrive.

_But something unexpected happens, the girls crisscross, and Laila goes to Liam and Luna come to him. Liam looks at him and gives him this wide grin like he can’t believe their luck, grabbing Laila by the middle and pulling her into him, like she’s always belonged there._

_He does the same with Luna_ , who’s giggling so hard it’s shaking her entire body.

“Can we go see the dinosaurs?” Luna’s asking him softly as she fits herself onto his lap. Liam hears it and nods, so he tells her, “We’re gonna go grab something to eat now, but yes, we can go.”

“YES!” Laila shouts out from Liam’s arms. “Amazing Baba.” She continues. “Yes _Baba_.” Luna says more quietly, “Thank you.”

And his heart swells a little, and Liam looks at him like Zayn’s handed him the biggest prize.

He’s happy here. He’s found a warm cottage filled with more than enough love to shield from the cold.

And that’s enough for Zayn. _More than enough._

_*_

“Lulu, how would you feel if you pop to my work with me?” He’s asking Luna two weeks later, a week away from Liam’s birthday. It’s Monday, and he’s just finished up at work on the new rota. Like an idiot he had to come back for his car because he didn’t think Mrs Bell would be super-efficient in finding framing specialists.

Laila who still elects to join him at the Gallery, had just been dropped off at Violin.

“I need to go get daddy’s big painting. Mrs Bell is coming to help too and I thought you’d like a trip to the studio better.”

Up until that point, Luna was sat with a book from the ever trusty Famous Five collection on the sofa in the largest reception room, Watson by her, snoring loudly.

“Hi Baba,” She smiles to kneeling up to look at him. The word still makes him smile. She uses it interchangeably with Mr Zayn still depending on her mood, but it makes him happy when it slips up without her thinking about it much.

“Yes please!” She makes grabby hands, and he’s learnt that means she’d like to be picked up. Which he does, before walking them across the hall, under the stairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs Bell is making him coffee.

As usual.

“Some ice – cream Miss Luna?”

“Please.” She smiles as he puts her down on the island in the middle of the room.

“Mr Zayn, I sent over the specifications of the painting over to the frame shop, we should be able to pick it up from them tomorrow, if we take it there before four today.”

“Well I came to pick up the car, it’s about to go two.” Zayn says checking his watch, “I think there is enough time, thank you for coming to help Mrs Bell.”

She smiles nodding her head and drags his mug across the island. Before leaving to go to the cold room where Liam keeps his fresh produce and freezer where everything else is kept. He’s never understood why he doesn’t use the appliances that come with the kitchen, but he’s stopped poking fun at his drink fridge now.

Coming back with small tub of Ben and Jerry ice – cream he swears Luna is addicted too.

“I’ll only give you a scoop now Miss Luna, we don’t want you to ruin your dinner.” She tells her as she’s grabbing a bowl.

“How long did it take you Mr Zayn, in total? The painting I mean.”

“Well, Luna chose the picture of Melia in July, third week or so, Liam’s birthday is in a week, so that means just over four weeks ago now.”

“That’s super impressive.” She chuckles.

“Don’t praise it yet! Gotta show it to you first.”

“From your tendency to leave scraps on every bit of surface in this house, I’d say it’s gonna be amazing anyways.” She laughs, her index finger tapping on the side of her nose, a few weeks ago Zayn would have still believed it’s a little dig at him, but not anymore.

“Ms Luna,” She continues changing the subject. “Once you’re finished with your ice – cream please change out of that pyjama.”

“Yes Mrs Bell.” She answered still digging around her bowl.

“I don’t wanna hassle you Mrs Bell, but have you had a chance to press the linen.”

“Yes dearie, it’s in the laundry room. I’ll fetch it before we leave.”

“It’s chilly out today, even if it doesn’t look it Lulu, so wear a jacket please.”

“Okay Baba.”

Mrs Bell look up at him and smiles in a way her face is glowing. It’s the first time Luna had said it in front of other people, first time in front of _her._ He nods his head and she leaves the room and Zayn can’t be more contented.

*

The next day, once he’s picked it up, he lifts the custom built forty- seven-inch canvas into the car, helped by one of the shop attendants.

It’s so big Zayn had to flatten the back seats to squeeze it in. It has been wrapped in linen and tied with string, but the gold ornate baroque frame means he’s gonna need all the help he could get to lift the painting onto the hooks the gardener had devotedly drilled into the wall for him.

On the way to the station to pick up Ahan, he calls Mrs Bell to tell her to prepare for his arrival in about twenty minutes, already agreeing to hide it in the wine cellar the next few days, until they all have some time to hang it up.

Zayn’s excited, he’s not gonna lie. He’s never done something like this before, for a _loved_ one.

He’s not had many _loved ones_ to speak of, so this is ridiculously big deal for him.

He’s a bit late, and of course, she’s already waiting for him.

“Late.” She says.” Opening the car door. Instantly Ahan looks to the back seat, curious.

“Had to pick the painting up.”

“Yeah, I know, Laila said, how are you _M_?”

She smiles at him now. “You’re glowing.”

“I’m just happy.”

“When’s his birthday again?”

“Saturday.”

“Does that mean, I don’t get to see it?”

Zayn laughs and points to his phone where it’s playing music in the dash.

She grabs it and types in his password like she doesn’t live a hundred miles away, sorting through pictures of Liam and him and random pictures of the girls to get to the ones she want.

“This is absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

Zayn grins, as usual, Ahan never skims her words. “It’s three years in September since they lost her. So combining both events together, we get that.”

“Zed.” She whispers, “I’m so glad you found him.” She continues flipping through his camera roll.

“Yeah, me _too_.”

They get stuck in a bit of traffic crossing the capital, but soon enough he turns into Liam’s street and finds his parking spot.

“Mrs Bell should be waiting.” He tells her, grabbing her bags.

“I can help you.” Ahan tells him putting her bag in the car. “We’ll come out of these later.

He thinks Luna must be watching the front window because the front door of the house is then opening and Mrs Bell and Lucy, their cook, come out onto the front garden.

“I’m never gonna be over the fact that they have servants.”

“Quit calling them that.” He tells her as he’s sliding the painting out gently, just enough so that Ahan can grab it.

Lucy comes down the garden running, crossing the road and reaching them just as they about pull it out of the car. He tells her that his keys are in his back pocket and she pulls them out, going round to the front to grab Ahan’s bags and then stays to pull the seats back into their rightful positions.

 _It’s weird_ having people around you to make your life easier, and it takes time getting used to, but he kinda loves the idea now.

Once he and Ahan get it up past the gate, Luna starts squealing and jumping up and down. Mrs Bell’s reaction is to open up the front door fully so they can just walk into the hall.

Just inside Tom, the elderly gardener is waiting to take it from Ahan so that he and Zayn can take it down into the cellar.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Luna rushing Ahan the moment her hands are free.

“Let the men deal with it dearie, come on, we’ll have a cuppa, shall we?” Is the last thing he hears before walking further into the house and down the flight of steps that lead downstairs.

*

Later, when he’s sat braiding Luna’s hair for her swimming class, in the large reception room, Ahan asks him when it’s okay for her to move back down in about three weeks.  
  


“Have you told your parents?”

She shakes her head, taking off her scarf to comb out her hair. “I’m fully expecting that they’ll disown me. They’ve set a Nikkah date now and everything.”

Zayn sharply pulls his head up at that, because _no that’s not fair._

“Come down the second week of September.” He tells her plainly. “I cannot for the life of me let you do that.”

“But you haven’t moved here yet, what about you.”

“We have room for you, I can clear out the guest room downstairs, and we’ll drive up over the weekend to bring you down.”

“I’ve packed up most of my stuff. Zainab and Ameed think it’s a brilliant idea to come back, but my parents, um.”

“Listen, you’re twenty - nine. I’d tell you to do it this weekend but we’re going away. Which is sucky timing now.”

“No no, don’t mess up any plans. When do you leave?”

“We fly out on Thursday; Liam’s mum is sitting both of them.”

“You still haven’t told us where you're going.” Luna chimes in.

“I only know it’s Italy, it’s a bit of a surprise hun, even for me that’s why.”

“Laila hates surprises.”

“And you?”

“I’m excited I get to spend whole week with Leli!”

She laughs and Zayn ties the tail of the second braid.

  
“Thank you, Baba.”

And that’s the second person she’s casually said it in front of now.

Luna stands from where she was sitting beneath him. “I’ll go change.” she smiles walking out the room.

“Baba huh.” Ahan is smiling, eyes wide, lips pursed, almost smirking.

“It’s a new addition. It was Mr Zayn before.”

“It suits you.”

Zayn laughs, “You’re only saying that cause we have Laila.”

“No.” Ahan corrects, “This life, it becomes you.”

“Do you mean the domesticity or the wealth?”

“Both.”

Zayn blushes and leaves it at that, because maybe she’s right, and _it does._

_*_

On Thursday morning, Zayn wakes up super early to drive both himself, Ahan and Laila to Liam’s house. It’s barely six am when they arrive, an hour which he knows Liam’s still asleep.

Ahan had arranged with her work people to not go back until they come back, only going back to work her notice before she’s free to move down again. She had come up with the idea only the day before but honestly, it’s taken a load of Mrs Bell’s shoulders.

_Alhamdulliah._

He stops at Hummingbird to buy Liam’s favourite cannoli for a bit of an extra treat and they make their way to the house.

Mrs Bell is expecting him, and she’s opening the door just as they park. The sky a soft shade of gold, it’s cold out, the summer heat sinking away with each passing day.

It’s the day they leave for Italy and it’s sufficient to say he’s more than excited. It’s Liam’s first day off in six months according to Mrs Bell and as they make it inside, Tom is already waiting for him, coffee mug in hand, painting next to his feet in the large hallway.

“When did you have time to take it out?” Zayn whispers just as he’s taking off his windbreaker, Ahan beside him taking off her coat.

“Last night Mr Zayn, after Master Liam took to his bed.”

It still get to him that they call Liam these names, so he laughs, “Don’t ever call me any of that when I move in, both of you please, Zayn will do.” He says just as Mrs Bell walks away laughing.

“I’m gonna go get Luna, she’ll want to see this.” Laila’s telling him as she’s taking off her shoes. “Alright, but please be quiet.”

“Yes Baba.” She answers making her way up the stairs.

Do you think it’s noticeable?” He’s asking Tom who’s already set up one of the large the wooden ladders against the wall of the first landing, just under a Monet painting.

“Think it’s gonna be the first thing you’ll see.” He smiles. “So excited to see it _sir_.” He tells Zayn, taking a moment to rest by the bannister. The girls appearing from above them at the same moment.

Luna in her lilac dressing gown, hardly awake and yet smiling brightly at the sight below her.

Zayn helps to set up the second ladder and then they’re going back down into the hall to cut the string, finding a pair of scissors Mrs Bell must have brought in the meantime.

“I’d suggest we go slowly with it, don’t wanna make too much noise.”

“You’re right.” Zayn speaks, lifting it and walking across back the stairs.

Mrs Bell and Ahan come out from the kitchen when they hear that they’re about to life it into place.

“Hang on, Mr Zayn, we gotta hold the ladders.” Mrs Bell is saying.

_Zayn’s realising this is a major team effort, a bunch of people that are here because they love this one incredible man._

“Please don’t hurt yourself Mrs Bell.” Ahan laughs softly,

“Don’t be silly.”

Zayn keeps the linen on the front side of the painting and he and Tom start to simultaneously climb each respective step, once they make it to the top, Zayn looks around him to find both ladies underneath them holding the ladders from sliding. Zayn finds the wire running on the back of it and has enough space to lift it onto the hook. Tom does the same to attach it on his side and in a few seconds, it’s hanging on the wall like it’s always belonged there.

“One day.” Mrs Bell is saying, “I’ll tell you all the story of how Master Liam ended up with that Monet.” She telling the girls softly, who have now climbed down the stairs to join them for the big reveal.

Zayn smiles, at Tom, and then they both unhook the linen off the top and all four of them under him simultaneously gasp.

He laughs, but the little audience making happy noises around him makes bloody rush to his face in anxiety as he focuses on not falling off the freaking ladder.

He chose to bathe the background of the painting in almost angelic bright white light, Liam, Melia, and Luna sitting together on the white sofa in the second reception room downstairs with its gold wallpaper and oak furnishings. Liam’s happy smiling face, an arm around Melia’s shoulder, laughing into his chest, Luna on top of both of them giggling.

The fireplace on, curtains drawn, Watson by the fire, taking up most of the heat. Christmas tree behind them, trainset on the floor. He wanted to take Liam’s favourite time of the year and enshrine it together with something he’ll keep forever.

He’s taken three separate pictures and amalgamated them together to create his version of what they would look like now if they _hadn’t_ lost her.

As he finds the stable landing beneath him, Luna is jumping at his feet, wanting to be lifted up. She never got to see the finished product yesterday on purpose, right for this moment. “Oh Mr Zayn, mummy looks so happy. And daddy, and ohmygosh _Baba_ you’re the best, the best, the _BEST!”_

He whispers in her ear, that when he gets back from his trip, he’ll take her out to celebrate mummy’s birthday and she just about starts giggling loudly.

_Happy, finally, as she should be._

At that moment, there is a gasp from behind them.

It’s _Liam_ on the top of the landing staring at everything that’s happening below. Then he looks down at Zayn. Luna on his hip, Laila by his side. Ahan next to Mrs Bell and Tom holding onto the ladder and he’s breaking into a giant smile.

When he finally looks back up the framed painting, it’s like he cannot take his eyes off it.

The ever-trusty Mrs Bell, quickly ushers everyone away and into the kitchen. Taking Luna from him and handing her to Ahan as they all make their way down the stairs.

Zayn’s left standing there alone and shaking a little because he’s not sure what to do now.

“How long, _Mr Malik_ – how _long_ have you keep keeping this from me.”

Liam speaks, shuttered and slow like he isn’t quite sure how to take it all in. He’s making his way slowly down the staircase, holding heavily onto the bannister to not trip on the runner under his feet, still engrossed in what Zayn’s gone and done.

“ _Happy Birthday_.” He tells him softly. “Just wanted to give you something you’ll keep forever _Meri – Jaan_.” He breathes into Liam’s neck just as he’s pulling him in for a hug.

“It’s absolutely fucking _beautiful_.” Liam compliments, standing them back so that they can look up.

“I had an accomplice.”

“Luna.”

“Uh huh.”

“That little _scallywag_.”

And Zayn bursts into laughter so hard, Liam has to shut him up with a kiss.

 _“I love you.”_ Is the next thing out of Liam’s mouth. Then he’s repeating it over and over under its Zayn’s turn to kiss him.

“Me too.” And it takes his breath right out of his lungs because he’s never been in a position where he’s meant it so much.

Then from behind them he hears Mrs Bell coming down the hall, clattering with her teapot. Ahan behind her with another tray, obsiously some sort of breakfast. “Come on then, I’m serving breakfast in the dining room today.” She’s laughing as she walks across the hall and right into the room.

“ _DON’T MOVE!”_ Laila shouts as they turn around, Ahan’s phone in hand, Luna beside her.

_There is bright white light streaming into the room from the glass pane at the very top of the staircase bathing them in something almost divine and it genuinely looks like Melia has just dropped by to say hello._

“Go on then!” She tells Luna, who runs up the first set of stairs to them. Liam goes to grab her, but she makes hands for Zayn, who takes her from him.

Laila takes a couple of pictures and then calls Ahan so that she can join them.

“I hope to God, you don’t paint this picture next.” Liam’s laughing into his ear just as Ahan takes the phone off Laila so that she can rush up to Liam.

“I can’t promise you that.” He answers, tilting his head up to look at him.

 _“Kiss him then Malik!”_ Ahan’s laughing behind her phone, waiting for him to comply.

And Zayn, well Zayn can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

*

 _“Hey sleepy.”_ It’s Liam, pressing cold fingers over Zayn’s cheek, one sure way to wake him up.

“We’re here.”

He and Liam had just spent the majority of the afternoon and night traversing their way across Europe, and while he’s enjoyed most of it, he’s never been good with long car rides if he’s not driving.

Their driver pulls the door of the van open and that’s enough to get Zayn to sit himself up.

“We’re here _signori.”_ He speaks into the dark before stepping back so there is space for them to step out.

Zayn grabs his backpack slowly and tries to make sense of where he is, because Liam wouldn’t tell him anything other but Venice when he’s tried asking.

It’s dark out, little orange fairy lights light up the outside gate of the house they’re standing in, and beside it stands a women, obviously ready to take them in.

Liam’s however is still too busy trying to carry out his own luggage to notice the women is asking questions.

“Think we’re under Payne.” He replies. “Then he rattles off Liam’s birthday to answer the next question and phone number. “Ah, it is you, but sir, you’re under Malik – Payne.” She smiles, her accent a little heavy around Zayn’s own surname.

By the time Liam joins him, she’s showing him the code to the house.

“I hope you love this house in the same way we do.” She finishes, handing him the keys for the gates and walking away.

“She’s pleasant.”

“I think it’s the host.”

“Yeah, Giovanna.She's been a darling.”  
  


“Liam you booked us under Malik- Payne.” He says the moment the door is open and he’s switching on the lights.

“Your point.”

“I just don’t expect it when you do things like that.”

“Well, _Mr Malik, welcome to Venezia.”_

Liam’s laughing as he goes to pick him up to walk him into the grand house.

“I only agreed to an Airbnb! What is this?”

Because the house, it mimics Liam’s in so many ways, Damask upholstery, large paintings over wood panelled walls. Chandeliers lining up the grand hall. Black marbled flooring running everywhere his eyes can see.

“Come see the view jaan.” Liam says ignoring him, leading them up him up onto the rounded double staircase only let him down to open the wooden shutters that he thinks lead to a window.

_And oh how wrong he was._

Zayn doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he definitely wasn’t expecting, _this._

_The moment the shutters swing open, Liam steps out onto a canopied balcony. One with artisan tiles and stained-glass windows. One where Zayn can sit and sketch and hide and live happily away from the rest of the world. But it doesn’t stop there. Liam pulls up and hooks the windows and Zayn audibly gasps._

He’s found himself in a city of mirrors, of soft yellow light radiating off the water beneath him. A city of gondolas, of bridges, of marble in public corridors, of lives lost. The city of love, of tears, of sheer madness. The city chosen for exile; the city chosen for the freedom it has to offer. Liam’s found a house on the grand canal, and Zayn’s going to have trouble leaving.

“I picked this one because of the view.”

Liam’s saying, coming close behind him, hands over Zayn’s tummy, His teeth dancing softly over Zayn’s earlobe.

“And here’s the better, better news, _it’s ours._ Not for just today and this trip, but _ours_ , when we can come back any time.”

 _“I love you.”_ Zayn whispers, because nothing else can make up for this moment.

“I know.” Liam’s saying twisting Zayn round so that he can kiss him to his heart’s content.

“Now, I know it’s nine pm, but it’s actually early here.” Liam’s saying between kisses. “We have dinner reservations at ten with a few friends of mine, so we need to get a move on.”

And here was Zayn thinking he could just climb into bed and forget about the four-hour flight delay they just had.

“Hey Li.” He calls out just as Liam starts to walk away from him. Watching as Liam turn round to look at him again.

_“Thank you.”_

Then Liam bows, at his splendid work in picking a house he knew Zayn would give his heart too the moment he saw the view.

It make Zayn giggle and run up after Liam into the bathroom to freshen up and pray before getting ready.

_It’s the moment the penny drops, and he realises what he has here, it will last an entire lifetime._

*

The next morning, whilst Liam sleeps off his hangover, Zayn gets up to find his art supplies hidden in the many cases they’ve brought with them.

_Well, that Liam’s brought with him. The man does not travel light._

He finds his own suitcase, takes out his prayer mat first, then his paints which Mrs Bell lovingly wrapped in cling film for him, charcoal and a box brushes. Bought specifically to be carried about for this trip.

Zayn elects to take a trip round the house to find some old newspapers he can set up on and climbs up onto the rooftop to catch glimpses of the rising sun over the water. Church cupola in the distance, terracotta roofs his line of sight. A magical world he’s only dreamt about up until this very moment.

_Unlike the UK, it’s already boiling hot, and it’s barely seven in the morning. Sweat is coming down his face but honestly, it’s a nice change._

Once he’s finds out where he wants to position himself to paint, he rolls out his mat and finds a bathroom to perform Wudu.

Liam gives him long enough time to pray and start his sketch before he sees him coming up the turret, shirtless and half asleep watching him on the floor.

Liam’s smiling at him, this wide bright smile, that makes Zayn’s tummy do all types of things inside. So he gets up and walks over, resisting the urge to kiss him as he smiles back at Liam sweetly as Liam pulls him closer. They turn to see the sun fully envelope the sky from its burgundy blush glory.

Zayn leans a little further into him, but then, he isn’t given much time to think because Liam’s grabbing him after a bit and cascades them to the nearest wall. Dropping harsh rough kisses all over Zayn’s face.

_And Zayn’s brain switches on to the moment that’s happening right now._

Liam’s hand slips under Zayn’s shorts, past his bum, grabbing the back of his thighs and pushes him up further up the clay coloured wall.

“You’re not stopping me.” Liam’s saying, out of breath and not trying to hide what’s happening in his pants.

“I’m not trying too.” Zayn saying’s laughing into a kiss as he grabs Liam’s hips and pressing into him.

“Are you sure?”

“About what? _Fucking you?”_

Liam reddens, cheeks tinge pink as he lowers his eyes to gaze at Zayn’s lips.

He nods, “Don’t say it like that.” And Zayn laughs.

“Meri – jaan,” He corrects, “I’ve been wanting to make love to you for a _while_ now.” Liam looks up at that, eyes sharp and brilliant.

He leans in to kiss him. 

“It’s just taken me a tiny bit longer to get here, but I’m here _love,_ I’m _here.”_ Liam’s cheeks are burn so bright, Zayn’s a little afraid he might cause him fever.

“You’re not real, I swear.” Liam laughs.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

Before he really thinks about what he’s doing Zayn is pressing to be let down to be able to drag them over to where his newspapers are and lays Liam down there, grabbing tubes of paint off the floor and screws it open. He does the same for a few others. He sits himself on Liam’s knees to begin his little experiment.

Maybe it’s a bit cheesy and maybe it’s a little over the top, but as he dips his finger in the cold blue paint Zayn elect to draw a line over Liam’s tanned chest, without any particular direction. He keeps making lines, in every shape. Pulls down Liam’s shorts to print dots down his thighs, coming up to paint stars over his abs. He colours till his fingers are a kaleidoscope and Liam’s skin has become a rainbow. He’s dabbing a light pink over Liam’s nipples, laughing around words Liam’s whispering in annoyance to get a move on _Malik._

He stops, when he can see Liam tenting in his boxers.

_He shudders, realising that he’s indeed ready for what’s about to happen._

He breathes in and Liam finds the time to mutter something about condoms and lube and Zayn chuckles because _, of course_ only Liam thinks about safety first. Impulses second. 

Slowly he gets up to go look where he’s said.

“Ahh, ah, don’t you dare move Mr Payne.” He says quite loudly. Liam moans. It brings them out of their soft bubble immediately. “You’ll pay for making me get off you.” Liam’s eyes slip closed, he’s watching as his hands go to his boxers. He’s close enough to slap them away.

“No touching.” Zayn orders.

And Liam _whines._

Zayn laughs and walks away, way too turned on to look back at the mess of a man he left behind him.

He makes his way down the stairs and right into the bathroom where he opens the tap to wash the now drying paint off his hands. When his hands are clean enough, he goes to rummage about in Liam’s backpack to find what’s his after. Everything is in a little embossed pouch just like Liam’s said.

When he saunters back to Liam, slowly, on purpose. He finds him in the same position he left him. Thighs apart, knees up, hands over his face to hide his eyes from the ever-present persistent sun.

He leans down over him, pushes Liam’s knees down to take his boxers off to straddles him. Zayn leans in to place a kiss onto Liam’s cheek before he starts moving down his body. Pressing kisses over the paint lines he’d just drawn, dry now.

As he moves back up for a minute, he can see a heated fuzz taking over Liam’s face. He pulls one hand up, letting it fall free to run it softly down Liam’s face, feeling him shudder before he slithers his eyes shut, enjoying Zayn’s touch.

“Ahh, fuck! Don’t stop!” Liam pleads out, his tongue twisting over his words. He’s _stuttering_.

Zayn grins.

“You sure, _aren’t you?”_

Liam gasps out having difficulty finding air.

“Yes _love_ , stop worrying too much.”

“I like it so much when you call me love, Mr Malik.”

Liam says now taking over.

“Although,” Liam drags switching them over so that Zayn’s beneath him, “I’m not about to _make love to you_ with half of Venice watching.” Liam says into his ear, his fingers reaching up to find the inside of Zayn’s shirt.

“There is a day bed in there.” Zayn heaves, pointing to the other side of the roof where he’s already walked through.

Liam promptly leans up to get off him, hands going under Zayn’s back and thighs to lift him up.

“You really like the carrying thing don’t you.”

“Maybe.” He answers, walking quickly into the shade because Liam is actually naked already after all. He’s dropping a kiss on Zayn’s hair before gently dropping them over to the double day bed resting him tenderly on the white sheets.

Then Liam’s over him again, taking off his shirt and dragging his hands over the expanse of Zayn’s skin before promptly climbing up to take Zayn’s glasses off to place them on the bedside table to be able to sit on his face.

Zayn doesn’t even have time to react to what Liam’s doing and what this means.

It takes a minute for him to remember what he’s meant to be doing but then, Liam can feel Zayn’s tongue around his hole lubricating it a bit, Zayn’s fingers then reaching up to Liam downwards and onto his fingers. Stretching him as best he could.

“Never told me you bottom!” Zayn’s trying to say before Liam shuts him up with kisses.

“Special occasions _only_.” Liam moans into his ear, “Don’t get used to it.” Then Liam’s climbing down his body, nimbly tugging off the rest of Zayn’s clothes, grabbing his hips to position his mouth to where he wants it.

 _Fucking tattoos,_ Liam groans pressing soft kisses down his happy trail.

Zayn moans around a soft fuck, _it’s never felt that good before._

Then, he feels Liam dragging the flat of his tongue over him, tenses it and licks him without inhibition. Liam breathes over Zayn’s dick as he revels in the way Zayn tenses up, who’s waiting in anticipation for Liam to get a move on.

And it’s not as if he’s cocksure. He’s running on adrenaline alone, making it up as he goes along, but time seems to suspend just for them.

Liam lets out a shaky breath as his lips finally meet the head and Zayn’s swallowing him whole. He’s quick on the ball this time.

Sharp flicks of his tongue, not too much teeth, a tease of his balls. He smiles around his dick when Zayn lets out a moans loudly for the first time.

Pre cum is all over his face because Liam’s messy like that, down his chin, into his beard, but he doesn’t care right now, because Zayn’s moaning around words that aren’t making sense. It’s hoarse and it’s husky, like he’s fighting with himself to not completely lose control.

When he comes off with a slight loud pop, he’s fighting with the shorts to almost cut them off Zayn’s feet, so much so Zayn’s laughing at him.

Liam shuts him up with a kiss to his tummy, then climbing up his body to drop little kisses all the way to Zayn’s lips. To find the bag Zayn didn’t know he packed and ripping the condom open to slide it over him. This time he can feel Liam’s wet fingers dressing his dick with saliva, realising he’s not found the time to find lube. Zayn grabs the bottle from where it’s in the bag and squeezes it all over his palm. When he takes Liam’s dick in his hand to give it a few thrusts he feels Liam’s thighs seizing up around his.

“Gahh,” He complains, “I can come just like this.”

Immediately Zayn stops, his eyes open and he winks. “Nahh darling that’s not good enough.”

And if it weren’t for Liam’s smiling eyes and incredible patience with him, everything could have turned incredibly awkward.

Liam’s fingers find his own. When they touch, sparks of electricity run down his spine.

_It feels so good to be alive right now._

“Open up.” Zayn breathes. It’s almost guttural, like he’s keeping himself from not pushing too much too soon.

“ _Jaan_ , I can take you.”

Zayn doesn’t reply, grabs Liam’s right hip bone with his free hand and gently guides him to the head of his dick. When Liam pushes down, it’s slow but neither of them mind, allowing him time to adjust fully to be sitting down, thighs together, eyes open _, memorialising this into forever._

Liam’s chuckling , grabbing the back of Zayn’s neck bringing him up close to his face. Zayn’s hands immediately go to support his body weight on the mattress and then Liam’s titling his head up all the way backwards fucking himself.

The angle is changed when Zayn pushes up onto his knees to find himself more leverage, but Liam intakes breath so sharply that Zayn’s breathing out sorry’s for the life of him.

“It’s ok.” he giggles, “We needed to do that anyway at one point.” Liam pouts and tilts down to bite at his lower lip. When Zayn pulls back up, his hands are finding balance on Liam’s hips, drawing back to flip Liam over onto his front, pushing Liam’s head down into the bed so he can fuck him more properly now. “Stop talking.” Zayn directs and Liam submits.

Taking his time to test the waters, Liam lets him, accommodates even, opens his legs out wider so that Zayn push down into his back, opening Liam up more. He’s making noises Zayn’s never heard before and it’s _not_ helping his case right now.

Then Zayn’s he’s picking up the pace, hands going up to his hair to fix it up for a moment, still thrusting into Liam, but then, then he’s seeing white as he’s drifting into a new space he’s never really touched before.

It’s _astronomic_ the way Zayn’s feeling right now, to be so in control of what he’s doing, of enjoying the situation of wanting to _make love_ so badly to this man that’s opened up his entire life for him, and now handing himself over to make sure Zayn isn’t scared off.

Then he feels Liam falling further into the bed, his hands going limp. Zayn starts to thrust up faster into him, slow at first, feeling him out, but then faster, with more intent. He’s then made aware he’s hitting at the bundle of nerves because Liam keens and is practically whining.

_It makes Zayn come with the pressure._

His world goes black for a few moments, but then he’s hearing Liam stutter as he lets go and chases his own high. If he’s honest, that sound will make him come _home_ all the way from every corner of this planet if he ever hears it again.

They sit in silence, catching their breaths. _Unmoving_. He can hear ringing of the bell calling the faithful to prayer and now Zayn feels downright scandalous.

When he does eventually pull out, he ties up the condom and places it to the side and falls unceremoniously beside Liam who turns to look at him, eyes glistening.

“ _Meri – jaan_.” Liam whispers, reaching out to caress his face. 

“I want to hear you say _that_ forever.”

Zayn smiles, lowers his eyes, and thanks everyone with an ear for finding him someone that listens to his little things.

_“I love you.”_

“Main tumse pyar karta hoon.” _Me too._

Zayn says into his mouth as he leans in for a kiss.

_Definitely worth the wait._

*

Later in the day, when he’s finished painting number two, Liam comes home with a selection of fresh bread, cheese, jams, and olives from the bakery just across the road.

_Fresh out the shower, Zayn goes up to the turret to sit down at the setting sun, already in love with his town, this house, this life._

“Hey jaan.” Liam says coming right up knowing exactly where Zayn will be. He presses a kiss to Zayn’s forehead before sitting down to demand more kisses. When he’s satisfied and Zayn goes to break into the fragrant bread he hears, “Let’s call in on the girls before we go for dinner, shall we?”

_Yeah, he’s definitely falling in love with this life._

*

“Happy Birthday, officially _officially_.” Zayn saying into Liam’s mouth. Early the next morning. He’s already on top of him, his thighs cradling Liam’s ribcage. His mouth dropping kisses into Liam’s jaw.

He can feel that Liam’s awake under him, trying to keep his breathing steady but just as Zayn likes the weight of someone on top of him, he’s guessing so does Li.

They’re on the solid oak poster bed, lined with heavy white damask curtains. The sheets are a dark shade of red and Zayn’s a little in love with the ceiling paintings the room is covered with.

“Meri- jaan.” Liam’s whispering. “I love you so.”

“I know.” Zayn’s smiling as Liam finally flicks his eyes open, his lips pouting for kisses.

“ _Make love to me today.” And Liam’s honeysuckle coloured irises turn black with lust._

Liam has never been a man that needs telling too twice. He jumps Zayn so fast; he’s not had time to process being thrown onto the mattress like Liam wasn’t still asleep a minute ago.

 _“Go slow.”_ He manages, because Zayn wants to enjoy _this_.

“Shush with the talking.” Liam orders as his mouth moves to Zayn’s neck, his fingers finding the hem of his shirt, pulling it up so he can get to his tummy.

And fuck being kissed there has always been a bit of a pressure point. It only helps Zayn when he feels Liam hardening against his thigh.

“Good?” He asks coming up to press a gentle kiss over his lips, but he’s lost, Zayn’s already euphoric. Liam laughs as he shimmies down to sit over his knees and pulls down his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” He hears from below him, just as Liam’s starts to mouth around the wet patch on his boxers. When he does eventually pull them down, Zayn can feel his dick slapping back against his stomach the head feeling sore

But Liam ignores it, much to his protests and pushes his clothes off, opening his legs apart straight after. He starts to kiss up Zayn’s inner thighs, past more ink and finally making his way to his balls, taking each of them in his mouth and sucking. Zayn just about starts to whine.

Too eager for his own good that one.

Liam smirks, looks up to watch Zayn try his hardest to not touch himself.

“I’m gonna be opening you up in a minute.” Liam tells him, sticking two fingers in Zayn’s mouth. He doesn’t protest so Liam stops teasing and latches onto the tip, Zayn’s a bit impressed with himself when he hears more coos coming from Liam’s full mouth, full of _him_. He takes Zayn in all the way, takes a second to believe what Liam’s fully capable of and forces himself not to come from just a fucking blow job.

Liam then gets off him, leaving Zayn hot and panting.

“Here.” He instructs grabbing Zayn’s hand, and pushing lube into it.

He guides Liam’s index finger inside of him, watches slowly to the way he tentatively pushes into him. He opens up the bottle and then he’s suddenly spilling a lot of it over Liam’s fingers to try to get a second finger into him. They both laugh at the mess they’ve made.

“You’re so tight.” Liam comments slightly out of breath.

_Truth was he’s not done this since he was sixteen so yeah, he’s gonna be fucking tight._

Liam’s fast, he’s suddenly opening his thighs further with one hand, and grabbing at a pillow to rest underneath his bum like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Zayn lets him.

Because he’s enjoying what Liam’s doing way too much.

Right then, he keens. It’s definitely involuntary and Liam flicks his eyes up at him to smirk _. Fucking Smirk._

“Feels good hun?”

“Shut _up._ ” He chokes out, because no he didn’t expect this at all.

Liam’s rubbing circles into his calf, “Find the condoms.”

“Isn’t that your job today!” Zayn moans into the sheets refusing to get up for any reason.

“I hate _you_.” Liam snarls almost laughing getting up to go find his ever-trusty pouch. When he sees him coming back Zayn parts his legs again. “Come _here_.” He instructs as Liam climbs up his on his chest so that Zayn’s able to reach him with his lips to wet his tip before ripping the condom and rolling it onto him.

“Wow.” Liam’s saying his eyes sparkling down at him, “Never seen it done like that before.”

“Well,” He explains, “What can I say? Zayn laughs, “I’m unique?” And Liam just about loses it.

Liam then moves over him, covering him slightly with his body, Liam’s dick pressing into his whilst leaning in to kiss him.

“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this.” Liam’s whispering into his ear, dropping kisses over his face and down his neck, dipping into the valleys of his collarbones before starting to make his way down, down his left arm, pressing his nose against his tattoos. Shifting gently to latch onto his hip bones, licking his way up to his nipple and nibbling there too.

Zayn’s been a mess since the moment they decided on this, this morning, but he’s never experienced anything like this before. Nothing quite so _loving._

He’s now he’s positively leaking onto his tummy but of course, Liam’s too busy mirroring his kissing on the other side, and by the time he’s licking his happy trail clean, Zayn’s keening so hard he’s afraid he’ll come.

“Fuck _Payne_. Stop teasing.”

“You like that huh.”

“Fuck you.” He breathes, his fingers finding Liam’s hair pushing him down further. “Stop it, or else I’ll come before I have a chance to feel you inside _me_.” He hushes out, but then his mind is going white with pressure meaning he falls into unceremonious stillness.

Liam takes him in his mouth then. He feels Liam taking in his tip. Zayn’s two shades darker and cut meaning he’s 100% sure Liam’s not seen anyone quite like him before. He’s quickly falling into a rhythm that suits him and suddenly he’s fondling at Zayn’s balls like he’s done this a million times over.

“Stop.”

“Liam stop, because I’ll _come_ if you don’t.”

“You really hate the teasing don’t you.” He nods, flushed and in need to feel himself tighten around Liam’s length. Liam comes up to press a kiss to his nose, takes his bun and tightens it on his head so that it doesn’t fall out later and finally comes down to fully kiss him.

“Are you ready?” His answer is in his kiss, and it seems to be enough for Liam because he’s then kissing down his tummy again till he gets to his hole. He gives it a few tentative licks before grabbing the lube bottle again to press it gently into him and on the rubber.

With one swift movement, he’s got his dick in place and is over Zayn’s face again. His head falling into the pillow as he starts to nibble at his ear. Zayn shivers and has just enough time to calm himself down. “Come on then.” He coaxes, feeling Liam’s dick deliberately starting to gently push into him.

Slowly, he bottoms out but gives Zayn time to adjust to the new pressure inside him. Liam presses another kiss to his jaw before pulling back out. He’s a little in love with the fact that he’s still taking his sweet time, smiles a little when he’s asking if it hurts too much.

“If you don’t get a move on, I might have to ride you.” He nearly shrieks, not caring about nosy Italian neighbours right now. “That would be fit as hell but _next time_.” Liam chuckles, slowly building up their rhythm. The fact that Liam just said next time got him feeling all kinds of things.

Soon enough he’s seeing white again. Liam’s grabbing at his dick matching it to the pace of their movement and for a quiet minute the only sound is skin against skin. He turns his head towards the window, the white glow of sun is radiating itself into the room, the dark oak shining as it bathes itself in light.

He’s definitely falling in love here, and that _still_ scares him.

Within seconds though – he’s blacking out – his fingers grabbing onto Liam’s face for the life of him.

And when he comes too – Liam’s pulling out and tying the condom with this massive smile on his face.

In the post coital haze Zayn runs his fingers down Liam’s body for the first time in what he wants to be a long time.

“Happy Birthday.” He’s saying, holding onto Liam’s fingers always for dear life.

“ _I love you_.” Comes the response, and just before he falls into a heavy happy post coital haze. Liam gets up for find him a washcloth and when he’s back he’s sure Liam’s saying, _“And I’ll do that for the rest of my life.”_ It sounds like a promise, and Zayn – well Zayn’s staring to believe it.

*

“Can we go on the gondola today?” Please please _please_.”

Zayn’s chuckling around his breakfast, Liam in his lap, demanding attention.

“You’re cheesy as fuck, you know that right.”

“You love me _so_.”

“True true.”

“Plus, we go home tomorrow, and you’ve chickened out the entire week we’ve been here.”

He’s right. “You’re right Jaan, been too busy fucking you all day.”

Liam whines a bit more and obviously gets what he wants. “I’ll go on the gondola _just_ for you.”

*

The moment they land back in London, Ahan is the first thing on their mind.

“I can send the valet in a truck to bring all her things down, but you, we’re gonna have too asap.”

They’re sat in Zayn’s car, on their way home from the airport. Hands intertwined, hearts happy.

“I can move over the weekend, it’s the studio mainly, and Laila’s school room, everything else can stay for Ahan.”

“Oh, that reminds me, whilst we were gone, Mrs Bell has engaged some people to make a proper room for Laila, instead of it being a guest bedroom. Laila’s got to choose all the new stuff too.”

“Oh _Li_.” Liam’s response is to kiss his left hand, smiling into his fingers.

“It’s super pretty, you’ll see.”

“I believe you.”

And so it goes.

*

Two weeks later, when he’s all packed up and ready to go he’s sat waiting for Ahan’s moving truck to arrive. When there is a knock on the door, he’s surprised to see Ahan standing there, with more than a few bags ono her shoulders.

“Came down with the valet, couldn’t stand being there a moment longer.” She’s explaining.

“Have you told _them_?”

“ _Zainab has_ ,” And then she just about collapses into his arms.

“Jaan, you have _us_ down here. We aren’t alone and afraid now _Mahjabeen_. We have so many good people helping us be _better_.”

“I know, I’m just a little sad.”

“Well, I’m out of here already now, so consider this place officially yours.”

She steps in and looks around, most things remaining the same, accept for a few things he’s elected to take with him.

“Come on then, I’ll make us some coffee.” He tells her as she’s taking off her shoes.

“Where Leli?”

“She’s decided she wants to do swimming, so Liam’s taken her, he switched both of them to Saturday mornings now.”

Ahan laughs, “Maybe someone in this family learns how to swim.”

“She will, if she really wants too.”

She takes a seat on one of the island stools and he knows she’s ready to start a serious conversation.

The look on her face tells him so.

“I would like to know, your mortgage and whatever else you pay for this house please. Can’t just walk in and pretend it’s rent free.”

From the front door, there is a team of people leaving boxes in the hall but it’s a good a time as any to tell her now.

“There isn’t a mortgage.” He starts, “You have a full Sky package to pay, and utilities.”

“What do you mean there is no mortgage?”

“Just _that_.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Liam?”

“Liam.”

“He asked me to marry him in the same conversation too.” He continues, softly after a moment.

Ahan laughs, “I knew it was coming! What did you say then?”

Zayn smiles, “I didn’t answer, need some time you know.”

“I’m happy for you, I really am.” She leans in to hug him just as the kettle boils and yes there is this slight tinge of sadness running across between them as they work together to move her in properly.

Because sometimes, maybe he does wonder what life would be like if he got to marry Ahan and raise Laila together, but _now_ , now he can’t see a life his beautiful, beautiful man.

The man that walked into his life, so unexpectedly, falling into him like he was always meant to be there, like a glove, fitting seamlessly into his life, into his soul, into his very being.

  
“Hey Zed.” Ahan’s telling him, pulling him out of his little reverie, “Stop worrying about things, something tells me you’re gonna be just _fine_.”

*

_December._

“Girls!” It’s Liam calling up the stairs, voice loud, going nowhere as usual.

The house has been set up for the Christmas season and there is large fir garland decorations coming down the railings of the stairs, tinsel on the frames, a massive Christmas tree in the hall. Mrs Bell has even swapped out the soft furnishings to go with the season.

The fireplaces are on, in every single room, Watson asleep by the fire, and Zayn’s still not over how homely this house can be with the right people in it.

 _It’s his last class of the year and Zayn’s agreed to take the girls along to the ice skating after_.

It’s snowing outside.

A week away from the big day, and Laila has asked him nonstop if it’s true, if he’s okay with presents this year.

He is, but only because he’s learning how to slowly adapt to a multi- faith, multi race relationship.

The girls have just got back from their walk with Watson and Tom and their taking their time changing to be able to come down for lunch.

They’ve started a tradition now, every time Liam is home for dinner especially, they sit together to eat, like a proper _family_.

Zayn didn’t like the idea of being served food in his room like it’s some sort of hotel with room service.

“Laila!” He calls up the hall, “ _NOW!_ ” Not even a second later, her head is poking out from the top landing a mouth full of sorry’s. He proceeds to tell her off to change out of her yellow snow suit. 

“I hate that they listen to _you_ , more then they listen to _me_.” Liam’s chuckling, grabbing hold of Zayn’s side, pulling him close.

“I think it’s cause they know I’ll set them extra work if they don’t.”

Liam smiles, “Mocks next month.”

Zayn grunts, “Don’t remind me.”

“They’ll ace it Jaan.”

“How do you feel about spending new years on the roof.”

Over the months, it’s been a running date of theirs to spend their evenings up at the gallery ordering take away and spending the night staring up at the stars.

“At work?”

“With the girls.”

“Absolutely brill Zee.”

“Cool, I got a couple more heaters already.” And then Liam giggles.

They walk down the flight of steps and enter the dining room where Mrs Bell is just setting the table.

She smiles softly at the sight of them, before excusing herself to let them be.

“Told you that first day she’ll love you.” Liam’s saying looking at him with these proud eyes.

“You were right. About everything you were right.”

“I’m always right with hunches about you Zee.”

Zayn leans in to kiss him, only breaking apart when they hear footsteps running down the stairs.

“We don’t have to tell you _both_ twice!” He snaps when they enter the room. “Sorry Baba.” Comes the apology in unison from both girls and Zayn can’t help but smile a little on the inside.

They all sit around the table and then he rattles off his plans to help his own anxiety with things. 

“Right, so we’re all in agreement with what’s happening tonight, we have a reservation for dinner at half six and tickets booked for the rink at half seven. Mrs Bell _is_ aware so please don’t go beg her for snacks, she won’t give you any. Daddy said, we might go back to Winter Wonderland in the new year if you’re good with tonight.” He says, just as Mrs Bell comes back with her food trolley.

“Are we all in agreement now?”

“Yes.” Comes the answer, and the excited chattering commences. Liam looks at him and gives him this look, one filled with so much love, it might burst out of his chest.

*

“Laila! Come see the fireworks!! They’re already shooting up!” Luna is calling up from the roof through the window.

Laila’s too busy helping him with the food. There is about fifteen people at the studio, the four of them, Ahan and a man she’s met since she moved down, Liam’s mum, Mrs Bell, and her daughter and several of his and Liam’s work friends. He and the girls had decorated it the day before and the gallery agreed to it if the music is kept to a quiet level. Plus Zayn thinks his management love him too much to say no to him.

Mrs Bell had even worked her magic and now it’s up to them to make it so.

Liam chose specifically to work Christmas night and boxing day to be able to enjoy this time with everyone now.

“I didn’t expect this to be so nice Zed.” Ahan’s saying from behind, her hands on his sides. “And _Kadir,_ seems to fit right in.”

Zayn laughs, “You pulled a me and Liam.” He says, bringing his arm out so he can hug her.

“To be fair, he hasn’t moved in yet.”

“Told you coming down here would be the best thing for you.” Kissing the top of her head, over her festive cerise scarf.

She smiles into his chest and Zayn’s just happy to keep her there a little bit longer.

“Laila seems to love him too.”

“That’s the main thing _Mahjabeen_.”

“And he doesn’t seem to give a damn about having you around so close.”

“That’s cause he’s got his priorities in check, love.”

“I know.”

“Go dance with him then.”

“I will do just that.”

He turns to watch her bumble over to him. He reaches his arm for her to grab it and she twists into his grasp, happy laughing as he’s peppering kisses down her face. She met Kadir at work and having to spend so many hours with him processing DNA, it makes total sense that they’ve moved as fast as they have.

His family adore her and think the world of Laila too, so his little heart is happy for her.

_He’s even asked her to marry him._

Their world is a little upside down, but it works just so.

When he checks his watch, it’s just gone five too twelve, and he wonders for a moment what the new year will bring.

He sees Liam, coming down from the roof, holding an empty tray that was filled with snacks a bit ago. On the roof, he can just about see Laila and Luna and a few of their friends, holding phones, trying badly to shoot the fireworks that flies up into the sky every so often.

“Let’s dance.” Liam’s saying, grabbing Zayn by the waist and pulling him to where most of the couples have created a small dancefloor.

Kadir and Ahan to their side, Liam’s mum happily dancing with Mrs Bell, both women laughing hysterically at some of the music choices.

“Couldn’t have asked for a better night.” Liam’s saying just as _let’s start the new year right_ song by Bill Crosby comes onto the playlist the girls had set up.

“They really know how to mix it up huh.” Liam’s laughing into his lips, twirling Zayn around like they’re in their ballroom at home.

“Totally gotta start using the ballroom Li, next year for sure.”

“Oh, after this?” Liam says smiling, “ _Definitely_.”

Then as the song ends slowly Laila’s running down the stairs to turn on her projector, because she had decided last minute to make a countdown and all before, they all watch the fireworks coming up from just over the river which always lights up the whole sky.

Both girls had practised what do after, and Zayn for a moment, takes it all in. Realising how much life can can in just a year. How they were stood here, he and Laila in the same spot, munching on popcorn and chocolate as the fireworks popped up the year previous.

“Hey, you up there, I can see you thinking.” Liam’s whispering into his ear as Zayn’s watching Karen dance happily with Kadir whilst Ahan goes to help Laila.

_“You were right about the family thing all that time ago.” He replies._

“I _knew_. I knew exactly what we could be the moment you let me walk into your life.”

As the countdown clock comes on, Liam lets him go to go grab the champagne from where they’ve stored it. Handing Zayn the non-alcoholic one he can share with Ahan and Kadir, before handing the rest of their friends the normal ones.

As they ring out the new year, he’s being sprayed with liquid coming from everywhere, corks are still being popped and Zayn just thanks _Allah_ that he put every single bit of sketch away before all this madness.

And then as they count to midnight Liam’s lips find his happily sharing a kiss he’ll probably remember forever.

 _Auld Lang Syne_ comes on and when he stops laughing his head off, he realises that the projector is playing a montage of pictures off Liam’s phone of them, of the girls, even of Ahan with Luna at her first Urdu class. Laila’s first time on a horse. Of course, Liam posing happily with the gondola man after Zayn had gave in that day.

But then, then he looks down and sees Liam on his knee, Ahan holding the phone already recording, and the shouting around him intensifies as everyone reacts to what’s happening

There are gasps all around them and Liam’s mum is _shouting about damn time LiLi._

Zayn just nods, nods his head and then Liam’s body slamming him and lifting his feet off the ground twirling them around before remembering that he’s actually gotta put a ring on his finger.

It’s the first time Zayn notices that there are two solid black rings in the blue box, and one he lets Liam slip on his, he takes the second one out and slips it onto Liam’s finger like it’s always belonged there.

When Liam leans in for a kiss, the entire room explodes and Zayn can’t help but feel he was put on this specific path to be in this moment, at this time, in this space.

“Yes, yes _YES_! A thousand times yes Mr Payne.” Zayn’s whispering into his ear.

“You mean, _Mr Malik Payne_.” Liam’s smirking as they keep dancing to the song.

Zayn can see Laila in Ahan’s lap laughing hysterically, Kadir holding Luna in his arms as they both cheer them on loudly.

He can see Karen and Mrs Bell standing together wiping tears off their faces.

“Had help.” Liam whispers. “Those girls over there,” He points, “not as innocent as they seem.”

And then, when he’s looking over to them again, Laila’s managed to livestream the firework display that’s going on outside, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t really care about that, doesn’t care one bit at all.

“Here is to us.” Liam’s smiling as Kadir is handing both of them champagne, smiling his head off.

“Here’s to us _Mr Malik Payne_.” Rolling off his tongue like it’s always belonged there. Grabbing Liam’s hand to make sure that yes indeed there is a ring on Liam’s finger to signifies he belongs to him.

Yes indeed. In the same space, in the same room he met Liam all those months ago.

_And so it goes._

_The first day of the rest of his life._

*

**Author's Note:**

> If you have made it this far, thank you for spending precious time with me and this fic. 
> 
> Please feel free to comment with feedback! It's always appreciated.


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